


Water On Mars (or Slouching Towards Something Better)

by Salon_Kitty



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Post-Felina, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, depictions of torture, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 160,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salon_Kitty/pseuds/Salon_Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse is taking it one day at a time in his new life of freedom, but it's more precarious than ever. And the book says, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The author would like to acknowledge that it would seem many viewers, post-finale, had many of the same ideas about Jesse's potential future away from Nazis and chemists, including the author herself, but would like to take this opportunity to explore some character dynamics that we saw frighteningly little of during the show's run. The author feels that Jesse making it to Alaska is practically canon (although everyone, of course, is welcome to their interpretation of the ending), as suggested by many post-show interviews and fans alike, so would like to stick with that idea, while possibly conjuring up some hopefully plausible explanations that the original writers may have initially had in mind. This work is mainly intended to take a look at the fallout and devastation of the people left behind.

__

_**Chapter 1** _

__

__

The air was so crisp in the morning.

 

Every day it was the same, something he would never tire of, that cool mountain breeze a gentle beckoning that coaxed him from his nightmares in the early hours. Nothing like that arid heat he’d grown up with. The clean, woodsy smells would fill his room and he’d listen for the murmurs in the wind as it rustled the chimes on his deck— _get up, here’s another day you get to live._

He swallowed great lungfuls of it as he headed into town, wanting to feel the crispness travel through him, cleanse him enough that he could feel like a normal person for a while. It usually worked for at least half of his day. Still, it felt good out here. It didn’t matter that he was up at dawn. It didn’t matter that his truck was a piece of shit and was making that weird rattling sound again. It didn’t matter that the loneliness sometimes threatened to crush him. He was alive, and he was driving through mountains and looking at these incredible trees, and _holy shit, breathing felt so fucking good._  This goddamn air was perfect.

Pulling into the parking lot of Anne’s tavern, he scanned the sky through his windshield. It had that overcast pall that signaled a looming snowfall. The sun barely bothered to make an appearance on days like this. It meant the night would come sooner, always a daunting moment, but Jesse was used to the darkness. It was what he deserved, after all, a thought that gave him some sort of warped comfort. But sleep was another matter, one not so easily navigated in the Alaskan winter. He turned off the engine and grabbed his thermos—Anne always filled it for him while he slurped down at least two cups with breakfast. Caffeine and nicotine, the last crutch of the addict—he was working on quitting the latter. Cigarettes he reserved for evenings only, chain-smoking them with furious concentration on the nights he couldn’t close his eyes.

There were several cars parked by the front window, typical at this time of the morning, and Jesse recognized a few. Many of the patrons he’d see inside were guys on his crew and he’d nod amiably when they looked his way, but he wasn’t yet ready for sharing tables. It was a quiet, welcoming atmosphere, and often he’d come back after work and eat dinner there, too. Anne Perkins was the proprietor, and she was exactly the type of woman you would expect to find in a small town in Alaska: no-nonsense, but kindly, with eyes that held a lot of sad stories. She asked polite questions out of interest, but she respected her customers’ need for secrets. The vehicles people drove around these parts were also to be expected, but a few spots left of the file of battered trucks a blinding white BMW caught Jesse’s attention and made him pause in his step. Its incongruous nature seemed so suggestive he felt his heart skip a beat, like it was daring Jesse to think of a reason it could possibly be sitting in this place that didn’t have to do with him. _Think, you junkie imbecile, even Dr. Lacey doesn’t drive a car that unpractical. Did your mother drop you on your head as a baby?_

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to clear the voice. That hated voice. _I’m not doing what you want anymore, old man._ He breathed in the brisk air again, deep and filling, his chest expanding as his heart rate slowed. It wasn’t like this was a cop car with ABQ license plates, it was just a damn tourist or investor, come to check out the ski-lifts or something. His paranoia was misplaced; the investigation was wrapped up nice and neat and they weren’t looking for him. He _knew_ that.  It had been almost a year. Jeesh. He thought he was done with his panic attacks. Jesse marched to the door and jerked it open, irritated with himself but determined not to let it ruin his mood. As soon as he stepped inside, the warmth folded around him instantly like a friend’s embrace and he felt better. He sought out Anne’s face at the counter. The older woman gave him a wink and a smile as soon as she noticed him and he ambled towards his usual seat as he smiled back, his spooked moment already fleeting.

“Mornin’, Jake, having your regular?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take an extra helping of bacon, though. It’s gonna be a cold one, today.”

“Well, you could use it, sweetpea. Need a little meat on them bones.  Here, give me your flask, and I’ll get ya set up.”

Jesse shrugged out of his coat and slung it over the barstool beside him, pulling his touque off of his head with the other hand and dropping it atop the coat. As he moved to face the counter again, he saw them in the periphery of his vision, sitting in the corner booth and looking straight at him. Jesse froze, his breath caught in his throat like the driest piece of toast, and in that brief second he attempted to correct in his mind what he’d just seen, then ran through every scenario that could likely get him out of the restaurant in a hurry without drawing suspicion. A fractured thought had him wondering how much he would miss his little home, if he’d even be able to start over. He didn’t think he could do it again, would even know where to find the resources this time. His hand started to shake first then the quiver in his belly took hold and seemed to inch up his spine like a caterpillar on a drainpipe.

He made himself look again to be sure, slowly craning his neck towards the corner where they sat. They were both still staring at him, as if they’d been waiting for days for him to show up. Neither woman moved, just sat expectantly, their faces grim but eyes shining brightly, like twin wraiths come to haunt him. It suddenly occurred to Jesse that they were sisters; he’d forgotten the connections in Mr. White’s family, but it made sense now. Mrs. White was still impossibly tall and blonde, but the angles in her face were sharper, drawn. And the cop’s wife… _Marie_ …who was shorter and darker than her sibling, yet somehow, they still looked like family.

Suddenly, all that clean air in Jesse’s lungs evaporated and he leaned into the counter, the room starting to spin as his breaths sped up faster and faster. The cup of coffee in front of him swam in and out of his vision and he was acutely aware that he was making whimpering noises.

“Jake, you okay?” Anne stepped closer to him to rest a hand on his shoulder, as if he might fall off his stool, and her concerned expression snapped him back into his surroundings.

“Yeah, _shhure_ ,” he slurred, feeling like he might vomit at any moment, “Just really hungry. I...I forgot to eat last night.”

Anne didn’t look remotely convinced but she turned behind her and barked through the cut-out in the wall that connected the kitchen for someone to hurry up with his order. She moved to pour some coffee into his cup, eyeing him warily.

“That’s the problem with you artist types up here in the wilderness—you get too _inspired_ and forget to take care of yourselves like us regular folk do.” Her eyebrows raised upwards on _inspired_ and she gave him a little smirk with her chiding, but Jesse took comfort from her teasing nature. It was like an old joke between them and it was the closest thing he had to familiarity in these parts. It did nothing to stop his shaking, though, and now he could feel it spread to his chest and shoulders.

His plate of food came up on the ledge and Anne walked over to retrieve it, urgently placing it in front of Jesse and then pulling his silverware from their bound paper napkin. She set them on either side of his plate as a mother might prompt her child to get started.

“Don’t eat too fast, hon. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He mumbled his thanks but she was already walking away with her pot of coffee to see to the rest of the diners.  He heard a baby’s cranky whine of impatience, and listened helplessly as Anne approached the two women with ties to his old life, his nerves screaming for him to run but his body rigid with his fear and incomprehension.

“Ready for another cup, ladies?” There was a murmur and the sound of china clinking. “If you need something for that little angel to nibble on, I’ve got some butter cookies in the back. She teething yet?”

“She’s fine,” he heard one of them respond. “We’ll take the check no—”

“We’ve been waiting on someone,” the other one rushed to say, before her sister could finish. “So we might be sitting here for a while longer, if that’s okay. Till they’re ready.”

“Suit yourself, miss. This place won’t get busy for another few hours. Of course, this sugar plum might need a nap before then.”

He heard Mr. White’s little girl squeal ( _no!)_ and then a slap as small, pudgy hands hit the table. Anne’s feet on the carpet were already lightly thumping to a space behind him; she had other customers to tend to. Jesse gave a quick exhale before braving another glance over his shoulder, but this time Mrs. White was reaching over to wipe the face of her baby snuggled in a booster seat, a scene simultaneously adorable yet absurdly surreal considering what a threat she was to him here. The other one, Schrader’s widow…Marie…she was still watching him, and her face brightened imperceptibly when she caught him looking back, something hopeful there that he couldn’t quite understand. Her mouth quirked up to one side, the invitation unmistakable, but the attempt at a smile one of the saddest things he’d seen in a while. Yet its effect was immediate, and a calm settled over Jesse that stilled the tension in his body. Before he could think about what he was doing, he grabbed his breakfast plate and coffee and started walking to their table.

Marie’s expression switched to surprise, then dropped into a nervous grimace as he covered the distance between them. Her hand flapped at the tabletop to get her sister’s attention, although her panicked eyes never left his. As soon as he reached them, however, his bravado instantly dissipated, and he stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. Mrs. White now had her full attention on him, but she was the flip side of her sister—steely, distrustful, but mostly inscrutable.

“Uh…would you…would it be okay for me to sit down?”

Marie spoke first.

“Yes! Yes, please do. Here, why don’t you-wait-let me move down,” and she sidled over in the booth so that Jesse had room to park himself next to her, squishing a giant purple purse up against her niece’s seat. The little girl grabbed for the handles poking up stiffly and began to gnaw on them with relish.

“I, uh, I gotta be at work soon, so…I’m assuming you’re here to see me, right?” he croaked, not quite sarcastic, but his tone trying to stay light as he gingerly eased against the cushioned plastic.

“We did. We looked,” Marie shot a glance to her sister, who continued to remain silent, as she lowered her voice, “we were looking for a very long time to find you. We—we just want to talk, you know.” The woman put her hand out as if she might grab his arm affectionately, but then just as quickly pulled back and let it drop in her lap. “You’re not in any…trouble…or anything like that. We’re not here for that. We just— _I_ –I just want to ask you some questions. _Please_.”

Jesse reached for his coffee, hoping they didn’t see how his hand still shook, but figuring it was hard not to notice, and took a big gulp of the hot liquid so it could scorch his throat. He wasn’t sure which was worse—thinking that they came here with the police to have him arrested, or the realization that what they wanted were answers he wasn’t prepared to give. He was hardly eager to relive the last moments of Hank Schrader’s life, nor the ones that followed.

The door whined as another patron walked in, and as Jesse watched the man stride to the counter, he caught sight of his coat and cap still on the stool. He flirted with the idea of grabbing them and then making a run for it. After all, they hadn’t come to his house, they’d parked themselves at one of four local places that served breakfast in the hopes that he’d come here, right? Did they already have his address? Had they been asking questions about him all over town? He listened to the soothing cadence of Anne’s voice as she offered a greeting to her new diner—she hadn’t warned him that they were lying in wait, so perhaps the women had simply gotten lucky? Jesse sighed, grabbing the syrup on his plate to drizzle over his pancakes as he contemplated his options.

“I’m not sure what kind of questions you have, but this isn’t really the place to have this kind of discussion,” he told them conspiratorially, head bent. “I’ve got to be at work in a half hour, anyway.”

“At the construction site?” Mrs. White spoke slowly and deliberately in the scratchy _sotto voce_ of a smoker, but her words drew him up sharply, the news making him even more uneasy than hearing her talk to him again ( _these..are from the deli…at Albertsons_ , he could recall that horrible dinner so vividly).

“We’re in the hotel that’s down the street from the building you’re working on,” Marie added. “We were going to wait for you in the parking lot there, try to catch you as the crew was leaving, but…we didn’t want to spook you, either.” She looked a little sheepish at the admission, but Jesse imagined that that would have been his exact reaction.

“How’d you even find me?” he whispered. He thought he had been so careful.

“It wasn’t cheap,” Mrs. White quipped, her glare gaining intensity the more she observed him, which put his stomach in full roiling mode as he choked down a mouthful of his breakfast. Her daughter made jabbering noises as she offered her a piece of her muffin, but Mrs. White remained focused on him. “You were a hard man to track down. After we realized you weren’t dead, Mr… Hennings, is it? Wasn’t that your aunt’s name?”

Jesse gagged on his pancake for a moment then swallowed the now flavorless mash with an audible gulp. Christ, they knew a lot. They must have hired someone as connected as Mike, and just as relentless.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his hands around his coffee cup again while he took another scalding sip. Listening to her voice had him craving a cigarette the way he used to crave meth, and that aching, longing need left him feeling far more vulnerable than the extent of their information on him. He really didn’t think he could do this. For an instant, he considered pleading with them; to just flat out beg them to leave him alone, go back to Albuquerque and forget he existed. But looking at their faces, he realized the futility of it. These two weren’t going anywhere. They reeked of doggedness and resilience. Every line in their face was a dash that led them to this place, their lives steadfast on this road now ending in a hollowed out cave that doubled as Jesse Pinkman’s guilty soul.

“You could-um-maybe….come back to our hotel room,” Marie suggested, leaning in so close that he could feel her breaths on his ear. His pulse quickened at the intimacy, not just by her proximity but the sexual nature of her invitation coating his skin with its promise of release. He felt sweaty and faint again, and had to set his coffee down before turning to her.

“Why would I want to do that?”

Her face was right there, so earnest and needy that he briefly imagined leaning over to kiss her, wondering what would happen if he did. Probably nothing good, but the fact that he _could_ do it gave him some resolve of his own.

“You really want to go that route?” Mrs. White’s husky drawl was starting to remind him of Mike’s, and not in a good way.

“ _No_ , that’s not what I meant.” His exasperation flew to his face before he could tamp it down, but he immediately dispatched the feeling. He had to submit to them if he was going to survive, a lesson he’d learned quite painfully. “I mean…sorry, I’m not trying to—” he closed his eyes and took a few breaths before resuming, speaking as deliberately as Mrs. White. “I just mean, why go there? I’ve got to get to work, I can’t really give you—I –I don’t know what, exactly. But it would make more sense to meet when I’m done. You can—can even go to my place, if you want, and wait for me there.”

“Wait…at your place?” She didn’t appear sold on the idea. ( _Waii-eat,_ the little girl mimicked.)

“Yeah.” He swiveled his attention back to Marie, who seemed like she might be swayed a lot easier than her sister. “Look, I really, _really_ need this job. I _like_ this job. I don’t want to fuck it—ah, sorry,” he glanced guiltily at the toddler. “I mean, _screw_ this up, you get me? Can you just wait? Is that possible? You came this far. What’s another half of a day?”

This time, Marie did grab his wrist, right over his tattoo, and the shock of another person’s touch made him dizzy and cold.

“How would we be assured that you’d even come back? We wait at some place for eight hours while you take off for Canada? No, thank you. We’re not risking it.” Her hushed voice cracked as her face crumpled into misery and Marie tilted her body away from them both for a moment, but she wouldn’t let go of him, her grip surprisingly strong. When she turned toward him again, Jesse could see her exhaustion plainly in the droop of her body, but those eyes remained alive with a fiery determination. “I have something to give you.”

“What?” He sounded panicked even to his own ears.  Jesse’s dread couldn’t get any sharper at this point.

“Jake? You doing okay, here?”

He jumped at Anne’s voice, felt Marie let go of his arm, as she shifted down the bench away from him. Instantly, he missed the contact. ( _Jake!_ _Mommy, Ja-a-ake)_

“Uhhh…sure, I mean, yeah—we’re fine. I’m doing okay. I’ll—uh—I’ll take some more—do you two want more coffee?”  He implored them for mercy with his glance.

“You ladies looking to buy Jake’s chairs or his art?” Anne asked out of the blue. Jesse stared back dumbly, not understanding her for a moment. Neither woman would know what the waitress was talking—

“His art,” he heard suddenly. He whipped his head around to gape at Marie, feeling even more at sea. Only a handful of people had even seen his work, he didn’t think he could come up with a convincing story—

“A friend sent me a photo of one of Mr. Henning’s pieces. It’s perfect for my living room. We just redecorated. My husband is a bit of a collector.”

“Oh, well, isn’t that’s something. Our resident artist here is getting a reputation, glad to hear it.” Anne reached over the table to pour coffee for Marie, her face beaming. “I’ve got one of his paintings hanging in my office,” she told them as she refilled their cups. “Jake gave it as a gift. It’s a silhouette of a little boy on a motorbike with a spider crawling into the corner. He’s all white, like a cloud. Beautiful desert background.  Gives me chills, but I love it. This one has got some serious talent; your husband should keep an eye on him. Of course, his chairs go like gangbusters. Some gorgeous detail in those, too, but probably a bit more practical for folks around here. I think almost everyone in town has gotten one by now, huh, Jake?”

She winked at Jesse, her grin so wide he felt a pang in his chest. The people he’d met here were so good to him, that it killed him to think of how undeserving he was of their kindness and trust, how he lied to them every time he saw them. He knew Anne wouldn’t be as proud to own the painting of a junkie murderer. He attempted to return the smile but he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate, muttering a lame _not everyone_.

“Well, maybe we’ll look at the chairs while we’re at it,” Marie said. “See if they match my design aesthetic.”

Anne’s enthusiasm dimmed, as she sized Marie up further. She gave a curt nod to their table before turning to make her rounds as more people entered the dining room. As soon as Anne walked away, Marie reached into her giant bag and pulled out an envelope, which she placed on the table and slid towards Jesse. It was bent up at one end, as though it had been folded over at one time, but otherwise quite flat. It certainly wasn’t bulging with money, that much was plain, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to see its contents, regardless. Its utter ordinariness made it all the more foreboding, laying there nonchalantly by his fork.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked them, his fear of touching it growing stronger by the second.

“Try opening it,” Mrs. White suggested in that droll manner that was seriously starting to annoy the shit out of him. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out from there.”

His hands were sweaty and still trembling, but he grabbed the envelope and pulled it to his lap, lifting up the flap under the table to peer inside. It was mostly empty but for a small black chip sitting in its center. Jesse frowned as he opened the mouth wider, noting the white markings on the side of the plastic. It was an SD card, like the kind for a phone, or a camera. A video camera. He stared at it for several seconds, feeling the cold dread deposited back in his belly like a sack of snakes, the coffee and pancakes suddenly wanting to make their return.

A hand was held out in front of him, and when he looked up, Mrs. White’s expression was one of pure disgust.

“I’ll take that back, now. You _really_ wouldn’t want us making a scene in here.”

He mechanically slid it back over to her, feeling tears prick his eyes, but refusing to let them form. They knew _everything_ then, and the thought filled him with that old familiar despair, the self loathing swelling up into a giant wave, a surfers dream, but then he’d never been much of a surfer. Shame, the toxin that lived in his blood, flooded him instantly, in a way that hadn’t happened for months, not since the newscast about a missing girl in Juneau left him sobbing in front of onlookers at a bar. He hadn’t been back there since.

Marie was touching him again, ever so lightly. Almost a caress.

“We don’t want you to take that the wrong way. It’s not a threat. It’s just—insurance.”

He stared at her in bewilderment.

“It’s yours as soon as we—you know—get what we came for. I don’t want it. I’ve seen it enough. I—I understand,” and then her body was unbearably close to his again, her voice so low, almost hoarse but too full of fury, “I know what he was like. That arrogant asshole was a cancer—“

“Marie.”

“Even worse than what spread through his lungs, and I get it, I do, he was a sick, sick man—”

“ _Marie_.”

The little girl—he couldn’t remember her name—grew agitated, her mewling gaining intensity with the rising voices at the table. Her mouth was downturned in a furious imitation of a sad clown as she held out her arms to her mother demanding to be placated. Marie immediately moved to reach for her, but Mrs. White was already pulling the child from her seat to shift her daughter to her lap. She glared at her sister as she soothed her baby’s distress, rubbing the child’s back as she made _shushing_ sounds, but Marie didn’t seem fazed.

“Skyler, you can’t keep getting upset with me every time I get angry about him. I have a right to be pissed off. Just let me do this and then we can go back home and I won’t say another word about that monster. You said you would do this with me.  Just let me talk to him, okay?”

_Skyler._

It felt weird to say her first name in his head; he wouldn’t even consider saying it aloud. He was so used to hearing it in that _asshole’s_ voice. Jesse had wondered about her a lot, especially after that dinner. Just how much she knew about him was a constant source of fascination for him. Did Walt pull the same bullshit on her that he had on Jesse? Had she been as stuck? Unable to break away from the man who exerted so much will over the people he professed to care about? Her husband was a subject he tried to avoid as much as possible, but he was rarely successful; it was like skirting a black hole. The battles that raged in his mind led him down to places that were no good for anybody, and yet Jesse couldn’t let it go, couldn’t make peace with it. With Walt.

“Look, I’m gonna be late if I don’t leave in the next few minutes.” They had his confession. He would have to play their game although he still had no idea what that entailed. It certainly had to involve more than “talking”, things never went that easy for Jesse.

“But then you’ll come and see us when you’re finished, right?” Marie had her fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist again.

“Uh, yeah, _obviously_.”

“You’d better,” _Skyler_ added, “or—“

“Or I’ll be one sorry individual? Yeah, I got that. You got a pen and some paper?”

Both women looked momentarily thrown by the question, but Marie dipped into that purple sack she called a purse and managed to find an old receipt and something to write with. She cautiously handed them over, as if he might turn them into deadly instruments to be used against her. Jesse eased them from her hands, letting his thumb subtly stroke the skin where her wrist met the crease in her palm as he pulled the paper away. He drew some satisfaction from watching her blink dazedly at him as he jotted down the address to his place and hastily drew a diagram of state roads and streets that pointed the way there. It was at least a half hour’s drive from the center of town, its remote location being one of the many things he loved about the house.

“Meet me there around three. People see you hanging around me in town, they’re going to talk. You got GPS in that Beemer, right?"

Marie nodded eagerly, her countenance a mix of hope and terror. The growing light from outside cast a grayish sheen to her skin, and Jesse felt a rush of sympathy for her. There was a fragile quality to this woman that made him instinctively protective of her, which left him chagrined by the irony, given their situations.              

“So, we’ll talk then. I promise.”

He glanced to Skyler as he stood up, but quickly left their table to collect his things and pay the bill. Anne said her goodbyes distractedly as more customers flocked to the counter, and then Jesse was moving smoothly towards the exit, forcing himself not to give them one last look as he passed them on his way to the door. The outside chill was a sobering slap against his senses and he was grateful for it.

 As soon as he was behind the wheel of his truck, he dropped his forehead to the rim and let out a shuddering breath. God, he really needed some crystal. He settled for a cigarette, breaking his nighttime rule and popping open the glove compartment to retrieve a pack. He split the seal at the top and crumpled the plastic wrap in his fist, staring at the box as if it were alive and prone to attack. He didn’t smoke Wilmingtons anymore, but there was still something about opening a new carton that always made him depressed for a moment, putting him right back on that street corner of Juan Tobo. Those slender sticks lined up so neatly were like grave markers in a crypt, the associations they conjured up leaving him awash in renewed grief.

He started the engine as he sucked the tar into his throat from what would likely be the first of many cigarettes for the day, enjoying the burn. He doubted that work would provide any refuge with so much weighing on his mind, the image of those two in his living room already freaking him out. Jesse sighed heavily as he drove onto the road. There was nothing to be done about it. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time, the same old platitudes that his NA counselor used to spout but about the only thing that kept him going nowadays. He may have thought he’d paid the piper after getting out of that hell hole in New Mexico, but it looked like the tax was still due. 

                                                                --------------------------------

 

 

By the time Jesse turned into the dirt road that led down to his house, it was with an impending sense of calamity. He’d had all day to work himself up, his mind barely on his job, which made it dangerous for him to be around a table saw. Twice his foreman had had to pull him away from a potential disaster to his fingers, the second time insisting that Jesse go home early after Jesse blamed his dazed state on the flu. The tremors in his hands definitely helped sell his story, and so he found himself with a few hours to kill before actually having to make his way home for this questionable meeting. The first place he went to was the liquor store. The clinking sounds of glass coming from the passenger seat comforted him only briefly until he came upon the BMW parked in front of his porch.

His place was little more than a cabin but it was plenty of space for him, and the property that surrounded it was a gift. While he was simply renting from Doc Lacey, ever since he moved in four months ago, he’d felt safer than he had in three years. He cried with relief the first night he spent there. The trees that spiraled around the outside walls were like sentries to him, the path from the main road a moat. It was perfect. He looked forward to this scene every day, pulling up to his sanctuary. Having it marred by the presence of that white beast was a chilling reminder that the past would always catch up.

The car door opened to reveal long legs stretching to the ground ensconced in tan slacks and high heeled brown boots. Mrs. White climbed out and stood watching him in all of her Amazonian glory. Their eyes stayed locked together for a few moments, Jesse listening to Marie and the little girl get out of the other side, their excited chattering breaking the silence like a flock of geese flying overhead. He heard peals of delight as the girl ran towards the birdbath now filled with brightly colored leaves.

“Holly,” her mother called. “Come over here to Mama, baby.”

Jesse sighed again before creeping his truck closer to other car, watching carefully where the little girl ran. He got out and slammed the door, his boots crunching the ground as he moved to the passenger side to grab his grocery bags. He strode towards his front door without regarding them, expecting the trio to follow. Once he was inside, he left the door open as he headed to the kitchen, leaving the bags on the counter so he could turn on some lights. They stood in his doorway: Marie trying to hold on to the squirming child in her arms, Mrs. White implacable, the pair seemingly waiting for an invitation like a brood of vampires. He held out his arms as they surveyed the living room.

“Well? You coming in or are we going to do this as uncomfortably as possible? I don’t bite,” he admonished.

The two women stepped in hesitantly, but then Marie was setting Holly down and asking for the whereabouts of the bathroom.  He pointed behind him. She grabbed the little girl’s hand and they disappeared into the back of the house. Mrs. White closed his front door and then walked into the middle of the room, laying her coat over the back of the rocking chair that sat next to his couch. She looked around with her arms crossed, sizing up his humble abode ( _this is my own private domicile, and I will NOT be harassed..)_ and then looked him up and down again, all without saying a word. He’d never felt so intimidated in his life; not even Gus Fring had left him this out of sorts. He began unloading his groceries, just so he wouldn’t have to face her.

“Uh, I make a pretty decent lasagna. So…you know, if …you want to, uh, stay for dinner, that’s cool.” He banged cupboard doors as he spoke, his attention focused only on getting the items to their resting spots. There was silence from the living room at first.

“You don’t have to go to any trouble for us. We can eat at the hotel.”

She said it so softly he stopped his commotion to turn around.  Something forlorn in her tone made him walk out from behind the counter to see her expression.

“It’s no trouble, Mrs. White,” he told her plainly, and in that moment it felt true.

She stared down at the ground, her arms still folded, and when she looked up at him again that toughness was back in her voice.

“Let’s just see if we can get through this, first. Okay, Mr. _Hennings_?”

“You can call me Jesse, here.”

She smirked. “Well, fine, because I don’t go by White, anymore. It’s Lambert.” As soon as she said it, she looked pained for an instant, and put a hand up to her mouth.  Closing her eyes, she seemed to employ the same breathing method as Jesse to regain some composure. She folded her hands at her chin, as if in prayer, and when she finally looked at him fully, he could see her sadness radiating from her like the dying light at her back.

“Just…I’d rather you call me, Skyler, if you don’t mind. It just seems…more appropriate.”

“Sure. Yeah, okay,” he said. “ _Sky_ -ler,” he added, trying it out. It wasn’t so odd.

That moment, they heard the toilet flush as a door opened. Marie and Holly loudly came back into the room and immediately Skyler opened her arms to collect her daughter. Marie was still a little too pale, but she moved around his house with interest and commented on his furnishings as if she were an actual invited guest in a proper acquaintance’s home.

“I _love_ that fireplace, the stone work is fabulous. And is this one of yours?”

She pointed to the rustic rocking chair that now held Skyler’s purse. It was a deep cherry wood with etchings all along the top of the headrest, a design that he’d created himself. It had been his first attempt and there had been plenty of mistakes, but he’d improved rapidly. Now it took him less than a week to knock one of them out.

“Yeah, and that loveseat behind you, as well.” That was the one he was most proud of; he’d spent months on it, weeks just getting the engraving right.

Marie sat down on the cushions to inspect the detail along the back. “Oh my goodness, is that a wolf? Wow. And look at the tree branches across the moon. This is…this is some beautiful work, Pinkman. Do you sell a lot of these? Is this like your side business?”

Jesse emptied the last two contents of the grocery bag as she spoke, and he clunked them up on the sideboard for both women to see.  One was a bottle of rye whiskey, the other a partially-emptied bottle of vodka.

“Can we just drop the small talk and let’s decide how we’re going to do this? ‘Cause I’m not exactly about to give you a tour, and I sure as shit am not in the right state of mind for what you’re asking me to do. So—I need another drink before we get started. Are you ladies joining me or what?”

The sisters eyed each other before stepping forward, Skyler reaching for her purse and fishing for her cigarettes. Jesse laid an assortment of mismatched glasses on the counter and started pouring the already opened vodka. He’d had to pull over to the side of the road while on his way home and chugged a quarter of the bottle just to stop his shaking fit. He grabbed an ashtray from the dish drainer and set it up with the glasses, slipping a cigarette in his mouth as he patted his pocket for his lighter. Skyler was suddenly in front of him with her own, stretching her arm to his face as she flicked up the flame. Jesse bent his head towards her and positioned the tip into the bluish hub, dragging in deeply as it caught fire, feeling a slight thrill course through his lower half. It was something Jane used to do for him, ready to light his cigarette the moment he put one in his mouth, an act he always found strangely erotic.

He leaned back and released the smoke out of the side of his mouth. It was best not to think about Jane, ever. Marie had already taken a swig of her vodka, and now she was leaning over the counter to peer into his small kitchen.  A small brown bag lay flat by the sink which he handed to Skyler.

“There’s something for, uh, your little girl to read, keep her entertained, I guess. I got some cookies, too, but if she’s not allowed to have them yet, that’s cool. They’re there, if you know…I mean, I don’t know what you’re expecting, but I wouldn’t recommend us _talking_ in front of her. It’s gonna get…well, it’s just not something I’d feel comfortable with. You’re more than welcome to put her in my room, if she’s tired or whatever.”

Marie questioned her sister with a look. Skyler seemed to consider his offer for a second before taking the bag and nodding at him.

“Thanks, that would be…good. But I—um—” now she appeared as quizzical as her sister and their further prolonged glances to each other held some kind of unspoken decision-making. “She really needs to eat before I put her down for a nap, so—why don’t we just do an early dinner, and then…we’ll…. _talk_.” She shrugged a shoulder at Marie and the other woman quickly agreed.

“Yes, I think we can wait a bit. Get to…know you…better before I—yeah, I think that’s a good idea, Skyler.”

“Right on,” Jesse said. “Dinner in an hour, then.”

Marie fluttered over to his side. “Can I help you with anything? Maybe start the sauce? You seemed to really like the lasagna I made, that time you were….” Her gaze froze with discomfort and she took another sip of her drink, cradling the tumbler as if it were hot chocolate on a Christmas morn while she examined the two pieces of artwork in his kitchen a little more intently than necessary. “I just need something to do. I’m really nervous,” she said. “When I get nervous, I start talking a lot. I mean, a _lot._ It used to drive Hank crazy.” Her face turned serious again as she regarded her statement and Jesse desperately set about finding a pot. Her sad face was killing him. He pulled the biggest one he had out of the bottom cupboard and handed it to her.

“Why don’t you get the water started?” he offered. She smiled at him appreciatively as she moved towards the sink, and he turned to open the fridge with relief. It really hadn’t been his intention to sit through yet another painful dinner with the White family, but while standing in the aisles at the store he’d had the strangest notion that he needed to show Walter’s wife he had grown beyond frozen meals. That he wasn’t just the idiot _kid_ she was expecting to find. And, truth be told, his lasagna _was_ actually pretty damn good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, dinner is not scabby, but the conversation is an open wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the author intends to keep to a regular Sunday schedule, this weekend, in light of the Yankee holiday, the author will post a day early 'cause she has stuff to do tomorrow.
> 
> Thank you, falafelfiction, for her continued beta work. It is most wonderful.

**Chapter 2**

 

 

The meal went surprisingly well.

 

At first, he didn’t say much. If they wanted to talk so badly, then they could provide the conversation while he ate. He wasn’t about to ramble on like a fool in front of Skyler again just to fill dead air. During the preparation of dinner, it had been easy enough to keep Marie going by egging her for her recipe suggestions and letting her instruct him on the best way to make fresh pasta, but once everything was in the oven, he excused himself to his room so he could spend ten minutes alone sitting in his closet having another smoke. He was so warm he took off his flannel and switched to a tee-shirt. He made his bed. He washed his face. Then he took another deep breath and flexed his fingers before stepping back out into his living room.

Jesse was thankful now that he’d had the inclination to make himself a dinner table over the summer, so that he had somewhere to sit them. The fact that he’d made _four_ chairs to go with it, a project he’d undertaken only a few months ago, made it feel as though this dinner had been preordained. Jesse had not as yet invited anyone over for such an occasion, not even the Doc, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playacting at being an adult with them, laying out placemats and silverware for the two women whose husbands had destroyed his life as if it were all perfectly civil. When Marie commented on the table’s rich finish, he took great satisfaction in informing her that it was more of his handiwork, but listening to her gush over his craftsmanship had him feeling like he was six years old again and Ginny was praising the shit out of his watercolor hippo. It almost made him run back to the closet. He held out hope that his beard could at least hide the flush in his cheeks, his embarrassment leaving him even more overheated than before. But even that detail didn’t go unnoticed by the sisters.

“We almost didn’t recognize you in the diner, you know. Our guy had given us a copy of the driver’s license you’re using now, but you weren’t anywhere near as _hairy_ in that photo. You’re a regular Jeremiah Johnson out here,” Marie said.

“Who?” he asked.

“Never mind, before your time. But really, you looked so different. Your arms are bigger, too.  You look,” her hands danced in the air as she attempted to come up with an accurate description, but quickly gave up. “Anyway, if you hadn’t walked over to our table, we might have convinced each other it wasn’t you.”

“How lucky for me, then,” Jesse deadpanned as he ripped off a chunk of garlic bread.

“Well, we’re really glad you did. I mean, that you’re letting us…I just really can’t tell you how much it means to me.” Marie was doing that earnest thing again.

“And what’s that? What is it, exactly, that I’m letting you do? Not that I have a choice in the matter, but let’s just be clear what it is you want.”

Marie looked contrite. “We told you. Just to talk. I—I need to know about Hank. What really happened. That’s all.”

Jesse wanted to say something pithy and cruel, let them know how unwilling he was in this arrangement, but he couldn’t do it. Looking at those doe eyes of hers welling up took away any desire to be a smartass. Of course she deserved to know what went down in the desert, it was the least he could do for her, and he was damn lucky that was _all_ they wanted. He just wished it wasn’t so fucking hard.

“Mommy, drink! _Mommeee_ ,” Holly whined as she stretched in her seat to reach for Skyler’s vodka. Skyler moved it smoothly away from her daughter’s grasp, took a sip, laid it on the other side of her plate then just as effortlessly changed the direction of the conversation.

“How did you make your way out here, anyway…Jesse?”  She was studying him again, leaving him squirming under her watchfulness. “It must have been…a challenge. The state of the compound they found Walt at—well, the evidence tells a pretty compelling story.”

He held her gaze while taking another gulp of his whiskey. This was his third glass. He was already past the usual limit he’d set for himself. However, he could only hope that he’d be drunk soon.

“I was really lucky,” he said. “I was able to get a hold of a friend. And then he got two more friends to help get rid of the El Camino I blew out of there with. It was, whaddya call it? Fortuitous? My buddy just happened to have come into some money and—yeah, it helped in getting me the fuck out of there … oh, crap, sorry. You didn’t hear that, Holly.”

Holly perked up at hearing her name, her eyes big with wonder as she watched him shake his head solemnly at her. Her mouth opened up into a joyful scream, her little hand reaching for him as she grabbed at air.

“What friend?” Marie asked. “Was it that Mayhew kid? Hank said you were known associates.”

“Yes. Jesus, do you know everything?”

“Well, I read all of the files before they were taken away, and Hank’s notes, of course, so I’m pretty familiar with the facts of the case, but there’s still so much that wasn’t answered. Which is why we’re here—to, you know, fill in the blanks. You’re the missing piece of the puzzle, Pinkman.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly, but hearing the name tended to make his flesh crawl. Marie turned suitably abashed at the faux pas.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I…what do we call you?”

“Call him Jesse, Marie.” Skyler held up her glass in his direction. “Continue with your story. Just know that my sister will interrupt fairly regularly.”

“Whatever. Does she want some more juice in her sippy cup?” Jesse pointed to Holly trying to suck the last remnants out by tipping her head all the way back against her chair.

“Here, I’ll take care of that, you keep talking,” Marie said, standing up to lean across the table for the little girl’s cup. “Weren’t you afraid that they’d call the police when they saw you? Your friends, I mean.”

Jesse made a face. “Badger and Skinny Pete? I’ve known those guys forever. They’d never ra—a-um, do that. Badger and I met in, like, fifth grade. He used to make fake IDs for us in high school. He’s the one who introduced me to,” he paused as he took in Holly, “you know—crystal.” He shook his head as he drank from his glass. He wouldn’t have been all that surprised if Badger _had_ rolled on him, but then he’d been quite a scary sight when he’d come tapping at his friend’s basement window in the middle of the night. Jesse wouldn’t soon forget the look on Badger’s face when his friend saw him in the light of his room, that mixture of pity and pure horror.

“Anyway, I couldn’t go to my old house, ‘cause that would have been risky for sure, and I figured my parents had probably sold it as soon as I’d been missing thirty days or whatever.  So, I didn’t have a lot of options, right? But I parked, like, four blocks away from his Mom’s house, hoping he was still around. And he was, even though he apparently was getting ready to move in another week. So I holed up there that night while my boys got rid of the car, short-term. I knew I had to be on the move soon. Cops would be all over the compound for a while, but that was fifty miles away, so I thought I had a little bit of time before they figured out I had been there and started looking for me.”

“Your picture was all over the news with Walt’s,” Marie said. “But you were presumed dead after…after we got Walt’s phone call. I mean, I told them you were helping Hank and Steve, so it didn’t look good...for you. And there was that picture of you on Hank’s phone.”

Jesse tipped his head back and downed the rest of his drink, trying not to shudder. He got up to grab the bottle for a refill. The vodka was finished, but he eyed the women’s glasses as he brought the whiskey to the table.

“You want some? I don’t usually keep liquor in the house, so this is it.”

Marie seemed to mull over the offer briefly before holding out her emptied tumbler, stopping him after it was a few fingers full, but Skyler waved a hand over hers then stood up to retrieve something from her purse. She brought back a small silver flask then proceeded to top off her drink. Jesse figured her for a Grey Goose kind of lady. Marie watched her sister pour, a look of reproach on her face.  He left the bottle on the table and took another swig of the amber liquid, savoring the burn in his throat as he reflected on what to say next.

“Yeah, well... my friends wanted to know where I’d been making such high-grade product.” He recalled how impressed they’d been with the quality, how they went on about it and how the more praise they heaped on him, the sicker he’d felt. “They said they’d been in contact with…with _Walter_ a few days earlier, and _he_ told them that I was the new manufacturer.  I had texted Pete that I was heading for Alaska before the whole…well, before the shitstorm hit, and they were, like, bummed that I’d lied to them, at first. But…after seeing me, it was kind of obvious that…things hadn’t gone too good for me, so….” He trailed off, their faces looming in his mind at that last parting, the small wave from Badger as he drove away from him in the bus depot, Skinny’s fist pump out the window. The grand they had given him warming the inside of Badger’s fleece lined jacket as he’d pulled it tighter around him, standing in line. He had never felt closer to those two than he had in their goodbye. He owed his new life to them, although it sickened him that Walt still had a hand in it.

“The lawyer disappeared, too. Goodman? The same time everyone else did. But there’s been no sign of him, either.” Marie looked at Skyler for confirmation but her sister kept her eyes on her drink.

“Saul knows a guy,” Jesse said. “He was supposed to take me away, too. Give me a new identity, with papers and everything. It cost a lot of money, and I guess he was touchy, ‘cause he was the best, or whatever. Don’t think they’ll be finding Saul.” He lit up another cigarette. “Probably how Walt disappeared, too.”

“So you don’t think that Walt had him killed?” Marie’s eyes were huge as she posed the question to him.

For a moment, the idea seemed ludicrous to Jesse. He could believe that Walt wanted to have _him_ whacked, but Saul? Then he had a sudden image of Mike in a barrel, remembering the long, detailed story Todd have given him about the way he had dispatched of the body and how Mr. White leaving the job to him was a point of pride. Recalled Todd’s marveling of the decomposition process as he described to Jesse how he had fished out Mike’s jawbone with a stick, leading to Jesse vomiting all down the front of his clothes. That psycho freak had been honestly perplexed by his reaction.

“I don’t know,” he said. He took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing a plume of smoke up toward the ceiling as he pondered on the notion. “Maybe. Who knows what was going through that man’s head at the end.”

“He killed everybody but you, it seems.” Skyler suddenly spoke, her expression daring him to contradict her. “He was still saving you.”

Jesse’s laugh was long and bitter. “ _Yeah,_ ” he said, his sarcasm thick with derision. “Such a _swell guy._ I’m so lucky to have known him.” He tried swallowing around the lump of fury that had formed in his throat but it was like choking back bile. He reached for his glass and took several gulps. Mercifully, his vision blurred a little, letting him know that his buzz was gaining some traction into full-on blitzed mode.

“You can’t blame everything on him, Jesse. At some point, you have to own up to your part in it all.” She said it quietly, not with any sense of damnation, but it still set him off. He glared at her, barely able to contain his rancor.

“Is that what you did?” he asked her accusingly. “You took responsibility for all the laundering you did for him? And what the hell would you know about what I _feel_?” His voice was getting shakier, but he couldn’t stop his tirade from coming, like something wild had been let loose in him. “You think Mr. White was looking out for me? _That asshole used me every chance he got._ I _know_ what I did. I fucking paid for my part _plenty_. And I know I deserved every bit of it, okay? I’m not saying any different.  I’m gonna keep paying for it for a long-ass time, so don’t worry.” He could feel the tears form but he had to get the words out that were burning him from the inside. “But that doesn’t excuse what he did to me. _I can’t do it._ I don’t care that he’s dead in the ground, he’s still here—” He cast a hand to the space around him, but he couldn’t finish, his throat tightening to a knot.

Holly started crying, her plaintive bawl putting an end to his spark of rage. This poor kid would carry the stigma of Heisenberg through the rest of her life, never realizing that her very existence was part of the impetus that began it all. Skyler turned to her daughter to give her some comfort, pulling her into her lap, and Jesse took the break as an opportunity to get away from them for a few minutes. He abruptly stood up, teetering briefly, and clumsily began stacking their dishes in a pile, his angry speech hanging in the room like blaring music from a passing car.

“I gotta take a piss,” he announced gracelessly as he turned with their plates to deposit them into the kitchen sink. “Dessert’s in the fridge, if you want it.” He stomped to the short hallway behind the kitchen leading to the bathroom and promptly shut himself in.

He walked in rapid circles, at first, the adrenaline still pumping through him, then sat on the lid of the toilet gripping his head, his fading cigarette crushed between his fingers. The tiny room closed in on him, but Jesse had grown so used to small spaces that its confines soothed him like being wrapped in swaddling. He pulled his legs up to the edge of the seat, arms clasping around them, and attempted to make himself as small as possible. It was his old response every time he heard Kenny and his band making their way to his grate, trying to shut them out even though he knew he was helpless to stop what was coming. Lester booming his name with all the glee of Todd about to rip off the wings of a butterfly was a sound that would plague the rest of his nights ( _Time to pl-a-a-ay, Pinkmaaan!)_ and he pressed his forehead harder into the tops of his knees as he wished for all the voices in his head to cease. He stayed like that, still as a statue, for several minutes.

There was a light tapping at the door. Marie’s muffled concern carried through the wood.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m on the can.” It was quiet on the other side of the door, suggesting she hadn’t moved. “Do you mind? Yo, I’ll be out in a minute.” His voice boomed inside the small room, threatening to shake the walls, yet he sounded stronger than he felt. He had to pull himself together. They’d barely gotten started and he was having a meltdown already?  He had to have some control. Mike would have insisted on it. Jesse let out a deep sigh and dropped his legs to the floor, flushing the toilet behind him for Marie’s benefit.

She was waiting for him in the hall just as he knew she would be.

“I’m so sorry, Jesse,” she started right away, her hands reaching for his forearms to take hold of him. He wasn’t sure why, but he let her. “Skyler gets like that, just ignore her. No one here is trying to _blame you_ , I promise. She just—she’s been under a lot of pressure.”

“Why _aren’t_ you?” he asked. Marie looked puzzled.

“Why aren’t I what?”

“Blaming me. Maybe your sister’s right. How do you know I’m not the one responsible for your husband getting shot, point-blank, in the head? You really have no idea, do you?”

Marie stilled, her eyes glistening. “Because I know,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched your confession about a thousand times. Every night that I try to get to sleep and fail miserably, I see you, like you’re talking to _me_ , instead of into the camera. I see your face everywhere I go, actually. You wanted Walt to pay as much as Hank wanted it, but you’d never have hurt anyone if it hadn’t been for that piece of shit. You didn’t kill Hank, Walt did. Even if he didn’t pull the trigger, he did it. I really believe that.”

Jesse didn’t know how to respond other than to gawk back at her, the two of them listening to the other’s breathing. He wanted to trust this woman, but it felt too daunting, the prospect of opening up his pain for them to inspect and judge like apples in a barrel, when he’d spent so much time packing it away. Trust didn’t even feel like a quantifiable entity in his view of people these days, a thing he could no longer recognize as easily given.

“You don’t know who I’ve hurt,” he finally said, pulling his arms free from her grasp. “We should probably get started. It’s supposed to snow tonight.”

They sat in his living room, the women across from him on the wooden bench he’d made, while he sat in the overstuffed chair he got cheap from the Salvation Army. It was the one piece of furniture that he’d purchased, the rest having either been constructed by him or had come with the house, like the small desk against the wall that he rarely used. The whiskey bottle sat on the coffee table, now dangerously low, and as he pulled another cigarette from the pack, he realized that it, too, was almost near the end. Skyler had put Holly down for a nap in his bedroom, a moment so awkward that he’d had to stay in the kitchen while she was in there. The room wasn’t dirty or anything—he didn’t own much—but it was still a further invasion into his protected little space. Jesse couldn’t help feeling like he’d have to exorcise the place with some smudge sticks as soon as they were gone. He inhaled the smoke from his cigarette as he went over his little intro in his head, watchful of their demeanors as they waited for him to begin. He still couldn’t read Skyler, but Marie was twitching like a meth head as her anxiousness took over. Jesse cleared his throat.

“Um, look, there’s something I need to say first, before…before we…you know, do this.” He paused, not quite nervous—he was definitely too tipsy for that—but determined to express his stipulations with as much dignity as he could muster. The women remained silent, their faces expectant.

“Okay, it’s like this.” He wanted to stand up, start gesticulating with his arms as he entreated them, but Jesse forced himself to stay put, saving his energy.

“I don’t really know what Mr…what _Walter_ told you about me. You know, the stuff that isn’t in no file, or on the tape. Maybe it was nothing at all, like he gave a shit about me anyway so why would he talk about me to his family, right? But you already know about…the heroin, and uh, him taking me to the rehab clinic. And…obviously, I backslid after…after Gale. But, um, here’s the thing,” and he stopped for effect this time, his body folding forward while he held their gaze and tried to convey his desperation to them. “I _can’t_ use again. Ever. I pick up a pipe, I do one more line, and that’s _it_ —” his voice broke as his hand sliced through the air in front of him—“I am _dead_. ‘Cause I’ll never come back out. I’m too terrified to even smoke weed.” He could feel the tremors in his fingers, but he wouldn’t look down, wouldn’t look away from them for even a second. “I was barely holding it together before Schrader found out—but after?”

He leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands to his head, one over the other, as if he feared his skull might explode. “What came after was a fucking nightmare. Like, everything before that stand-off in the desert was _nothing_. And it’s been really, really hard to not get, you know, _sucked down_ , and just ground into shit every day. I can’t forget any of it, no matter how much I want to, like, _really_ want to, and I know I deserve that. I mean, I don’t really sleep as it is, maybe an hour or two a night. I don’t have a tv, I don’t have internet; this is it,” and he waved toward their seat and the dining set. “I got woodworking to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied. And I paint. Sometimes all night.” He could feel a tear creeping along the crevice of his nose and he wiped it away angrily.  “And you know, when it’s _super fucking awful_ , like I think I’m gonna go insane or something, then I go to a bar. I let myself have two drinks, because I can’t trust myself after that, and then I go home and try to do something useful. But when I think about stuff that I did, stuff that happened, it can be—I’m just saying, there are places that I can’t go to, man. And I want to be honest with you, ‘cause you deserve to hear the truth. But you’ve got to give me—I just need to set some boundaries, right? You get me? So I hope…I hope you can respect that.” He let out a gush of breath when he finished, gripping the armrests as he prepared for their response.

Marie, for her part, looked somewhat awed by the speech, but her sister leaned forward grimly, one elbow resting on crossed knees as she held her drink in her hand.

“Were you high when you tried to burn my house down?”

Jesse didn’t flinch, kept his eyes glued to hers. “Yes. But I only did the meth to get my nut up. I planned on torching your place the moment I figured it out.”

“Figured out what?” she asked defensively.

“Figured out what Walter did.” He closed his eyes wearily and pressed his fingers to the lids. “I knew you and your kids weren’t at the house. I wasn’t looking to hurt any of you, just Walt. I would never do that.”

“And you thought destroying my childrens’ home wouldn’t _hurt_ them? That it was okay for them to lose everything?”

He perched his cheek on his fist and shrugged. “You and your husband had eighty million dollars. Bought ‘em something bigger, and they would have gotten over it.” As soon as he said the words, that moment in the White’s house came zooming back to him and he suddenly felt ill, scrunching his face in apology and covering his eyes with his palm. “ _Shit_. Sorry. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry that I poured gasoline all over your living room and tried to set it on fire.” He knew it wasn’t enough, but it was all he had to give her.

“Why’d you do it, though?” Marie asked. “What had you figured out that would make you do such a thing?”

Jesse pulled his hand away, his brows close-knit in concentration. “What do you mean? I thought you said you watched my confession?”

“I did.” Jesse continued to be confused. “I mean, I might not have everything. It cuts off rather abruptly when you’re talking about why you were throwing money out of your car, right before the police picked you up.”

“And on the cd? When did he make the copy?”

“I don’t know, but the disc had your name on it sitting on top of a box of files, which made it easy for them. I found the other SD card much later. After those thugs broke into my house and trashed the place. They smashed the camera and took what was inside, but Hank had a copy in an envelope sitting under my bras. How did they know about the tape, Jesse?”

His body grew cold as he felt the old pains from Todd’s methods pulse in various spots, that old terror slipping up his spine. “I told them about it,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry.”

“And why would you do that?” Skyler asked, incredulous.

Jesse ignored her, his sight fixed to the fireplace. “I told them that it wouldn’t be a good idea to hurt you, if it’s any consolation,” he explained.

“Well,” Marie waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss his betrayal, her expression locked in a grimace, “the police never found it in that entire sprawling dump, so I’m assuming they destroyed it. You did implicate that Alquist kid in Drew Sharpe’s murder, so that’s why they wanted it, right?”

Just the mention of Todd’s name made Jesse’s blood freeze. He nodded his head once, the room slightly off-kilter.

“Was that part of some deal you made with them?” Skyler’s voice trebled with anger.

“Yeah,” Jesse admitted. “The deal where they didn’t kill me. Just beat the shit out of me.” He closed his eyes again, exhausted already, but needing to hear their judgment. “Of course, as soon as they watched it, they were back to wanting to put a slug in the back of my head. I guess I have Lydia to thank for them not going through with it.”

“Lydia? As in, Rodarte-Quayle? You mean she was there?”

Jesse rolled his head against the chair’s back and gaped at Marie. “Nah. I mean Psycho Matt Damon had a boner for her. Lydia wanted the purest meth in the market, and I had the skills to provide it, second only to the great Heisenberg. And I got pretty fucking close by the end.” His eyes narrowed, hate filling his heart. “The freak actually thought he had a chance with her if I hit 98%.”

Skyler interrupted again. “Wait. I thought Walt was making their meth and you were... involved. He said that they weren’t going to be a problem anymore after he came to see me. I thought it was a dispute over money.”

“Uh, kinda, yeah. They did steal most of his cash. But I think he ripped them full of holes because they killed his brother-in-law."

Both women turned animated at the suggestion, Marie’s hand over her mouth and the tears threatening to spill again as she shook her head furiously.

“Look, why don’t I start at the beginning, because this is going in circles. What is it that you think you know about the operation, anyway?”

“The last place they had Walt marked was some little town in New Hampshire before he slipped away and started being seen all over New Mexico,” Skyler explained. “We have no idea how much time he’d spent there. The compound—it had the kind of equipment a chemist like Walt would require—it was knowledge-based. The DEA had loads of files on that White Supremacist gang, they had all done hard time, and none had ever been busted with such a professional operation before. And they were tied to that slaughter of a rival gang out in Phoenix. But you said on the tape that Walt had made the initial deal with Lydia. We knew they had been covering the Czech Republic. Walt told me he’d retired from the business. So…after Hank and Gomez…after he almost took off with Holly,” Skyler paused, her face contorted in anguish.  She shook it off a moment later, her jaw set. “We—we thought he went back to Welker’s  gang to hide out there. They had plenty of security and an arsenal of guns. The fact that Lydia turned up dead seemed to indicate some kind of turf feud.”

She stopped to finish the last of the liquid in her glass. Skyler reached for the bottle on the table and poured it sloppily, her hands were trembling as bad as his, but when she spoke again, she leveled a hard gaze at him, studying him closely.

“There was evidence of…someone being held prisoner on the grounds. A cell with a filthy mattress. Chains and handcuffs left by the dead bodies; the links matched the marks around Alquist’s neck.  And so police thought that maybe Walt had tried to walk away and they’d detained him against his will. But then your DNA was discovered on the site.” Her eyes went wide as she lifted her shoulders, affecting a mock air of innocence. “I don’t know. It started to seem like...maybe he’d gone there to save his old partner. Of course, that’s just our theory.”

“He didn’t come to save me. The guy wanted me dead.”

“Well, then, why don’t you tell us why he went there,” Marie intervened. “Please, Jesse. We just want answers. I know how hard this is for you.”

“Actually, no, you don’t,” he said. Her expression turned wounded as a kicked puppy and he instantly felt bad for her again. Jesse didn’t mean to sound nasty, he was genuinely thankful that Marie was there. He didn’t want to imagine how this interrogation would have gone one-on-one with Skyler White. “But I’ll do my best, okay?” he added softly, prompting a tearful nod from her.

Jesse tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, the room filling with the sound of his drawn-out sigh. _Where to start, where to start?_ He thought back to the missing piece on the tape, how he’d explained carefully to Agent Schrader and his partner the intricate way that Walt had dangled a little boy’s life as a means to pull Jesse back into his grip. He’d touched on it when he’d gone over the part where they’d brought Gus Fring down, hesitant to bring Andrea’s name back into the mix, but he’d waited till the end to really elaborate on Walter’s deception, bit-by-bit, leading up to Schrader busting in on him about to torch the Whites’ living room. He’d wanted the two agents to see it from his perspective, he realized now, had hoped that they could understand just how enormous a betrayal it had felt, after everything that he and Walt had gone through, and all the lies that Mr. White had fed him, to have it all hit him in that one crystal-clear moment on the sidewalk as he was getting ready to leave everything that he knew behind and disappear. How the epiphany that Walt _had never cared at all_ had practically cut him in half, leaving him incapable of just walking away without letting Walt know he couldn’t just hurt people like that—couldn’t _ruin_ them—and not expect consequences. It _had_ to all mean something.

“So, uh…I guess I should start with…how we ended up at that spot in the desert. Where Walt had his stash.” His head lolled to the side so he could focus on Marie.

“I told your husband that Walt’s biggest weakness was his money. Go after that, and he’d lose his shit and start getting sloppy. Schrader—”

“Hank, you mean.” Marie stopped him. “Please, his name was Hank, Jesse.”

Jesse took a beat before resuming. “Okay. _Hank_ had the idea that Walt had buried it somewhere from the information we got from one of Saul’s guys; big black dude named Huell. That’s where the photo of me came in—we rigged it to spook him into rolling on his boss. Just like Hank faked the photo of a barrel of money to convince Walt we knew where it was.”

“Wait—wait a minute. Back up. We know this part.” Skyler brushed his explanation away with a wave of her hand. “What about you and _Walt_ , Jesse? Why did you betray him? He obviously hadn’t wanted to give up on you. _What happened between you two_?”

 _Jesus._ He closed his eyes in irritation, willing away another emotional outburst. This woman was seriously the worst. He was starting to see how she had ended up with Walter White; the two of them were pitbulls. He shuddered to think what their sex life may have been like.

He stood up suddenly, needing to move around with so much aggravation coursing through him in the same way the crystal used to light him up with all that crazy energy. He wiped his hands on the back pockets of his jeans, not sure if he was sweating from the heat she was putting on him, the infernal need for a hit, or because the room was now jungle-warm from the crackling fire he’d started before they sat down for dinner.  He turned to both women, his palms out in obeisance.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. It wasn’t just _one thing_ , yo. It was _everything_. Mr. White was a _liar_. He fucking lied through his teeth every minute of every day, like it was breathing for him. And he’d make you feel—” He paused, turning away with the heel of his palm pressed to his eye while he took another deep breath. “The point is, he made me believe his shit, but it was all a pack of lies, from the start. _I need you to believe me, Jesse_ ,” he mimicked cruelly. “ _I never killed Mike. I did not poison that boy.”_ He glared at the women. “What, you telling me you didn’t know that already about him? Like, he didn’t destroy your family enough?”

“What boy?” Skyler asked, ignoring his accusations. “Are you talking about the one in the hospital that Gus Fring supposedly got sick?”

“Gus never touched him! That was all Walt!” Jesse yelled, before remembering the baby lying asleep in his room. He dashed a look to the wall of the fireplace, expecting to hear the sputtering cry of Holly awakened, but no sound came from her. Skyler never even looked in the direction where her daughter slept, but remained focused on Jesse, her expression one of disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Marie elbowed her sister in her side but Skyler didn’t budge.

Jesse gave up, shaking his head resentfully, knowing he was crossing one of his don’t-go-there lines in the sand, but feeling caught in Skyler’s demand.

“He set me up. You get it? He needed me to help him kill Gus, so he conned me into believing that the dude had poisoned Brock. I put a _gun_ right to the guy’s head to make him admit what he’d done, and—he—he didn’t even _flinch_. He was like, the best actor in the world.”( _Meryl Streep-good, as Mike would have said.)_ He could hear his voice quavering as he let the words pour out of him, but he was on a roll now, unable to stop, if he wanted to.

“But I couldn’t let it go, the idea that the ricin—what he wanted me to poison Gus with—was still out there somewhere. ‘Cause that would make sense, right? If Brock was sick from some _plant_ and not dying from what we’d made, then it had to be taken by _somebody_. And Mr. White went to all the trouble of helping me search my house _with me like a fucking idiot thinking he was innocent_ and of course, I just happened to find it with Mr. White there. Who even knows what was in that tube, looks like he saved the ricin for Lydia. And I kept thinking—” he choked on his rage—“I thought, it was my _fault_. I almost killed the guy. When I should have done it! Done the whole world a favor, and gone through with it. ‘Cause after that—after that, he had me eating out of the palm of his hand. I did whatever he wanted, like a good little bitch, ‘cause I felt so shitty about what happened. But _I’d been right all along._ I can’t—I can’t even think about it without going crazy. I mean, the dude’s dead and he’s still pissing me off!”

“Brock was your girlfriend’s son, right?” Marie was wide-eyed and breathy. “The Cantillo girl that was murdered? I read about that, and I _knew_ , I knew it wasn’t just some break-in like the cops said, I knew it had to do with the case. There was her connection to you on file, after they bought you in about the poisoning. It couldn’t be random. I told Skyler the same thing you just told us—you were so angry when you mentioned the little boy in the tape— but she didn’t believe me.”

“Yeah? Well, good for you,” he snapped, only to grit his teeth the next second. “Sorry.”

He tried to calm down with a long exhale through his nose. Jesse had no desire to discuss dead girlfriends. Especially not with these two.  Although it had not escaped his notice that between the three of them, they shared a poker hand of deceased lovers. He supposed he had them beat two-to-one.

“I can’t talk about her,” he told them, eyes to the floor. “She’s, uh, off limits.  Next question.”

“So, let me make sure I understand this,” Skyler began, speaking in a slow, measured voice. “Walt poisoned a child so that you would help him kill Gus, thinking that Fring was responsible, you find out later that he lied about it, and then…you go on a rampage? But you stopped because, what? Hank talked you out of it? You suddenly felt some _remorse_?” she hissed.  “Or was it something else? Walt said he was going to talk to you—that was his big solution, to talk some sense into you—and then disappeared for hours. The next day, he’s acting all squirrely again, taking off in a panic. And when he came back,” she shook her head solemnly, her eyes beseeching him. “What the hell _happened_?

“Can I ask _you_ something? Why do you need to know so bad? It ain’t gonna change anything. Why’d you even come looking for me? Really?”

“That’s nothing for you to wo—”

“—eed to know how he died.”

The sisters glared at each other as they finished.

“Skyler, it’s a reasonable request. We’re barging in here asking him to relive horrible things, I think we can return the favor and answer a few of his questions.”

“Fine, tell him whatever you want, Marie. But, please…at least be honest about why you dragged us out here. You _know_ how Hank died; Welker’s gun matched the bullet. Are you going to tell him about your court date, too?”

Marie appeared to be in a fit of pique at her sister’s prompt, her mouth pinched tightly, but she bravely faced Jesse with those eyes wide, like a Manga heroine, and he felt another wave of anxiety skirt his intestines. He didn’t know that he could handle any more guilt than he was already bearing and he was afraid to hear her expound any further.

“I’m-um-I was arrested,” she explained, turning even paler, if that was possible. “I stole something. I didn’t mean to, though. Dave says it was—I mean, I’m clinically depressed, is his diagnosis, but I was better, I had been doing really well, and then….” She shrugged her shoulders, biting her lip as the tears welled up again. “I guess you could say, I backslid, too.”

“What did you steal?”

“She stole a two thousand dollar rug,” Skyler answered, putting a fresh cigarette between her lips, lighter in hand.

Jesse couldn’t help feeling a little impressed. “Wow,” he said. “That’s….wow.”

“My thought exactly,” she replied, that deadpan delivery once again reminding him of Mike. She took relish in blowing a crest of smoke in his direction. “I just barely get out of a prison sentence by the skin of my teeth, and my sister decides she needs to have her own felony charge.”

Jesse didn’t know what was up between the two women, but even he felt that Skyler was being a little hard on her sister.

“Well, I told you, that sales clerk was a total bitch. Like I can’t tell the difference between tufted or woven? Please.” Marie scowled as if the very idea was preposterous, and she looked to Jesse as if he would surely agree. “Then she just walks away to answer the phone while I’m standing there waiting to pay. Terrible service. I should have had her fired.”

“Yes. That would have been preferable.”

Another stream of smoke exited Skyler’s lips as if to emphasize the point, but her face remained emotionless. Her cold judgment only incensed her sister further, however, a feeling that he could share.

“Oh, I’m sorry, should we compare crimes?! Because I’m pretty sure you’ll still win.”

“ _It was two thousand dollars, Mar_ —”

“Yo, do you want me to leave?” Jesse interrupted rudely. “’Cause I got plenty of shit to do, so if you two want to fight all night, I can catch you later.”

Both sisters ceased their bickering to look at him, and Marie was immediately contrite.

“No, Jesse, please. We’re really sorry. It’s been a long week for us, we’re just crabby. Please, I promise, we’ll stop arguing and let you tell your side of the story.” Yup, mountains of contrition.

“Well, stop asking me what was up with Walt, ‘cause I’m not gonna know that. Never did get the dude. I thought he was going to whack me before Schr—I mean Hank, even found me at your house. He makes me drive all the way out to the desert with Saul, middle of nowhere, like he’s some Mafia guy, just to make sure I didn’t talk? And that hug? Like, what the fuck was that? But I never really expected to do it, ya know? Roll on Walt, that is. I mean, I’m _not_ a rat.” He gulped hard, feeling shaky again, a clamminess swamping his skin, and he sat up straight, his back off of the chair. “I don’t—that’s not me. But—I don’t know, everything happened so fast. It was like, I was sucked into this space, where it was all just noise, like bees swarming, and I couldn’t think of anything else. And I just wanted it all to disappear into flames, just—all of it, gone, not have to think anymore.” His pause was heavy as he remembered the moment, staring at the wad of paper with his lighter in hand, the stink of gasoline making him feel like he was floating between the room and someplace faraway.

“Then your husband was there, trying to convince me to help him. And—what was I gonna do? Let him shoot me? Maybe I should have, but I was so—just so fucking tired. And then there was nothing. I wake up, I’m in your house, he’s got another cop there. I’m thinking, I’m under arrest, right? I mean, I didn’t hear no Miranda rights, but I’d been pretty high, maybe I couldn’t remember? And I was pretty fucking sure he wasn’t going to let me just walk out the front door. But….when I told them….told them pretty much everything…it—” He gaped at Skyler, fumbling for the right words so that she could understand.

“It was _cathartic._ I guess that’s what they mean by that. Like, I felt cleaner afterward. Just a little bit. It wasn’t all squished into this big ball of guilt in my stomach 24-7, making me feel like I wasn’t even real, just this pus-filled sore taking up space. I remember, I could feel my fingers after I finished. They were all tight and hot, but _there_ , you know? Whereas before—before I didn’t always feel things in my hands. Like, I could stab them with a fork and there wouldn’t be any pain, just nothing. But now, I _could_ feel it. And it was … like I had a purpose, or something. And I was just so relieved that that kid’s parents could finally know what happened to their son.”

And he _had_ been relieved, not just for Drew Sharpe, but for himself. So relieved, in fact, that he’d been practically giddy watching Hank’s plan unfold. It was as if he’d turned into a ghost the minute he’d told Mr. White that he was out, unable to talk to anyone about what had happened, living in some no-man’s land where nothing had any meaning, no point, just stasis—lost in the snow of a television set with no feed, like that little girl in _Poltergeist_. Some days, he wouldn’t even get out of bed, just laid there for hours contemplating how long it took for a boy that size to dissolve into a bright red barrel of goo. But the moment he’d heard Walt on the phone, the moment he’d told him, _I’m not doing what you want anymore_ , it was like being jolted awake back into the living, like getting a shot of Narcan after OD’ing on junk. Of course, it had been short-lived—up until they’d made it to that cursed spot where he and Walt first cooked—but while he’d had that feeling running through his veins, he’d been infused with a need for revenge. Anything that could take down Walter White had to be justified. He felt that even Mike would have approved of turning that asshole in.

Skyler turned to her sister disapprovingly, the latter wearing a guilty expression. Marie nervously fiddled with her hands in her lap.

“I—took a little time giving the police that information. But—” and she hurried the rest, “I _did_ tell them, I want you to know. I had to think of a way… I can’t even imagine what those poor people went through.”

Jesse could only nod, feeling oddly hollow. He was appreciative that she hadn’t turned in his confession, but still not sure why she hadn’t. He’d followed the story on the library’s internet connection so he knew that the boy’s disappearance and suspected murder had been tied to Walter and Todd. It had been a few weeks of utter panic, as he debated how much the DEA and the APD knew of his whereabouts. Kenny and his guys had destroyed the disc (and he didn’t let his mind think too much on _that_ ) and everything they took from Schrader’s house, so the information would have had to come from somewhere else. Yet, Badger had assured him that his name wasn’t mentioned in conjunction with the kid’s murder anywhere on the local news. He’d been in contact with his friend three times since he’d left New Mexico, and of course, the package Badger and Pete had sent holding a driver’s license with a new name, but hearing that had been enough to assuage his fears. It had been Badger’s idea to connect on a message board for one of his goofy sci-fi shows, leaving him relevant updates in code, like how it had only taken a day, after Jesse’s exodus, for the cops to start watching Badger’s house and tailing him around town. Thankfully, they gave up after a week. It had been bemusing to Jesse, how seriously Badger had taken the subterfuge, but he’d been eternally grateful for his friend’s new maturity.

“What evidence did you give the cops, then? There’s no body, and without my story, everyone else—” _Is dead_ , he left off.

“Well, I _was_ going to tell them that I’d seen part of the tape before it was stolen, but then, it had been a few weeks, so why wouldn’t I have come forward immediately? So, I—you know, Hank used to write down all of his notes on these little flip pads that he bought by the hundreds from Costco. And he had been writing in one during your talk, in fact, all through his little covert investigation—he had a pile of them. But those thugs took them with everything else, so I had to…sort of start one from scratch. I’d gotten pretty good at forging his handwriting over the years, but I had to really practice to make it perfect, since I knew they’d be poring over it very carefully. And I, uh … well, you know, there were still lots of files on Fring that he had in the garage. The Supremacists didn’t think to look there, I guess. And I kept a bunch of it before the feds took the boxes back, things that were directly related to Walt, information I _needed_ , because those assholes wouldn’t tell me a goddamn thing.”

“Why not just give them the confession?” he asked. It was starting to trouble him, all the work she had gone to just to suppress his involvement. What was this woman’s game?

“I had my reasons,” she answered primly, and left it at that.

“Oh, you had reasons? Sure. Okay. Well, I didn’t stick around Dodge, obviously, but I kept expecting to see my face on CNN or something. My fingerprints would have been on the gun that Walt killed Jack with, for one, so there’s that. And then…that creep, Alquist. But nothing. I read everything in the paper and online, and it was like, hardly any mention of me—”

“Walt killed Welker?” Skyler asked, sounding unsurprised.

“Yeah, blew his brains out mid-sentence—right as he was about to tell him where the money was.”

“Oh, they found the money,” Marie added dramatically. "Biggest seizure in DEA history."

Of course they had, it was in such an obvious place. Jesse still kicked himself for not grabbing a bagful of it before leaving dust in his wake, but it was probably what saved him from being caught by the police. He’d heard the sirens screaming down the 448 as he’d turned off the road leading out of the compound.

“But then I thought … maybe they weren’t that eager to find me, you know? Maybe my testimony wouldn’t be too good for some people,” he said, watching Marie’s reaction. “Being held against my will at a cop’s personal home, none of it on the books ...”

The two sisters glanced at each other again, but said nothing. There was a noticeable shift in the tension of the room, and Jesse wondered if he should push harder on the subject, but then Skyler was picking up the empty bottle on the coffee table and wagging it at him.

“This is really all the liquor you had in the house?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I’m a recovering addict. It’s not something I keep in stock.”

“Perhaps we need to make a trip to the store, then.”

“Seriously?” He leaned over to eye the clock on the kitchen wall. “It’s almost 9:00. This isn’t Anchorage; we don’t got twenty-four hour grocery stores down the street. Just how late were you planning on staying?”

“We’re not done yet,” Marie stated easily, then grew somber as she turned to her sister and hesitantly touched her shoulder. “It’s a long drive, Sky. Why don’t we just finish here then head back to the hotel?” But Skyler bounced up a shoulder to knock off Marie’s hand, seemingly bristled by the request.

He observed the diss with interest. “Don’t you want to get your daughter to sleep in a proper bed?”

“Are you trying to worm your way out of this already, _Pinkman_?”

“No, Jesus, I’m just trying to— Fine, whatever. I’ll drive.”

So it was that Jesse found himself buttoning up into his coat while Skyler did the same, holding her purse to her front like armor, and Marie protested ineffectually before finally resigning herself to a request for some lip balm. It was not the best thing for him, getting more alcohol, but he felt that his situation with the sisters warranted some necessary lubrication. Just surviving an hour in the truck with Skyler as a passenger was daunting enough. But as soon as he opened his door, he was welcomed with a new, fresh hell.

“Fuck.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, the night is long, and the messages are mixed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers. The author hopes those of you stateside had a lovely holiday week with your families and loved ones, and thanks you for coming back to the story. The author would also like to ask for some feedback on the story title. Falafelfiction has suggested that perhaps I can do without the Kubrickian subtitle for the fic (although it was really more of a nod to Joan Didion), and that 'Water On Mars' stands better on its own. The author acknowledges that perhaps 'slouching towards something better' is superfluous, it was just meant to utilize Vince Gilligan's script notes. However, would it be jarring to remove it when the fic has already been posted three chapters in? Or would it be better to wait until the fic is complete, and then snip it off? The author would hate to confuse anyone, so any recommendation would be helpful.  
> Thanks again, to falafelfiction, for her invaluable insight into some difficult sections for this chapter, and pushing the author to revise her thought process on some key scenes.

# Chapter 3

 

“What is it? What’s happened?” Marie asked as she scurried to the window, peeling back the drapes. “Oh my god.”

The snow was coming down thick and furiously, big clumps that splat on Jesse’s skin like fat raindrops, and had blanketed the ground up to their tire rims. The BMW already had a foot in front of the grill, the windshield hidden under a silhouette of powder.

Skyler spoke up behind him, suddenly very close. “When the hell did this start?”

Jesse looked at the scene in front of him in a daze. “Well, that’s the thing about snow. It’s kinda quiet. This’ll be six inches by morning, easy.”

“How bad do you think the roads are to drive?” Marie’s eyes were big again, looking frightened at the prospect.

“The plows won’t be out this way until late. I can make it in my truck, but your car? I don’t know. You got chains in the trunk, I hope.”

“We rented the car in Nevada. Don’t think they were standard with the vehicle,” Skyler said.

“You _drove_ out here? Are you nuts?”

“It’s only a few days trip. We needed some time together,” Marie said defensively. “Plus, we had a couple of stops to make.”

Jesse pressed his palm to his forehead, fingers splayed, and cricked his jaw as he attempted to not freak the fuck out at the thought of his surprise guests staying overnight. He wondered if it would still be worth it to drive into town for a booze run, weather be damned, because he really didn’t see how he could make it to morning without getting totally smashed. The sisters were doing worse things for his sobriety in an evening than his nightly parade of horrors had managed in the last year.

Skyler looked around his living room, her hands on her hips. “Is there someone we can call? A taxi service, or something? We can’t stay here.”

It was the way she said it that pissed him off and he turned back to her with a scowl.

“Oh, what, you think I’m dangerous, or something? Like, I’m gonna slit your throat in your sleep? _Now_ you’re worried? Not when your husband was Meth King of Albuquerque and dealt with psychos like Todd on a daily basis, huh, or orchestrating a mass prison hit? _That_ was cool. But God forbid we have to stay with the ex-junkie, _who knows_ what he’ll do.”

“Please. Don’t be so dramatic. We’re a threat to you, we made that painstakingly clear. I’d have to be an idiot to trust _you_ —a confessed murderer— in blind faith. It’s pretty obvious you made it through hell to get this far. I think you’ll do whatever it takes to protect yourself.”

“Not by hurting someone else! Jesus, I don’t even want you here, you think I’m thrilled with putting you up for the night? But unless you’re willing to take your three year-old daughter out into that and hope for the best, I guess we got no choice, huh?”

Suddenly, Marie was inserting herself between them, pulling in Jesse from the doorway as she held up a hand to her sister.

“Hey, let’s calm down, everybody. This isn’t that terrible. We still have a lot to talk about. And okay, we didn’t mean to put you out, Jesse, but I appreciate that you’re not kicking us out just yet. Maybe—maybe I should make some coffee, instead.”

“Marie, you have got to be joking.”

“What? Skyler, you’re not really fit to drive even without the snow, and I’m not about to try that in a sedan. If it was Hank’s SUV, then it might be a different story. I mean, you can stay in Jesse’s room with Holly, right?” she asked, turning to him for confirmation.

Jesse had closed the door and was leaning against it, arms crossed. “Sure. You can even lock the door, if it makes you feel better.”

“And where are you going to sleep, Marie?” Skyler had crossed her arms, too, although she made it look formidable.

Marie looked around the living room and then back at Jesse, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Do you have a sleeping bag?”

“You can take the couch. I’ll just crash in my studio. It’s got a _door_ ,” he told Skyler dryly. “You can bar it with a chair from the outside, so that way you feel doubly safe. And hey, if I need the bathroom, I’ll just use a bucket, like old times,” he sneered.

Skyler’s left eye flinched, giving him some small satisfaction that he’d ruffled her feathers the tiniest bit. But he’d meant what he said. He’d rather be locked in than have them feeling like he was somehow a danger to them or the little girl. The very idea made him queasy.

“Well, then, why don’t I make a pot of coffee and we can get back to … everything,” Marie said. “At least now we don’t have to worry about the time.”

“Why don’t you just hold off on the coffee for a minute, Marie. I need to talk to you in the other room, if you don’t mind.”

But Marie was already in the kitchen, opening cupboards and taking stock of the contents on the counter. She looked back at her sister with a breezy air, as if she were being asked to take a moment from getting drinks for her guests at a dinner party. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Marie, I don’t have time for your bullshit, get your ass in the bedroom, please.”

“Jeez,” Jesse couldn’t help but interject, “lighten up, would ya.”

Skyler’s expression was a classic _Don’t even_ , flashing a palm to halt any further commentary.

“Right, I’m getting some air.”

He swung open the door again but went out on the porch this time, lifting the flap of his collar around his ears. He needed more cigarettes, and he had another pack in the truck. His feet dropped to the ground with the muffled crunch of packed snow, sinking in quickly up to his ankles. Snowstorms up here didn’t mess around. He remembered the first one he’d been through, when he was still in that shitty motel with no way to get around town other than the soles of his shoes. He’d climbed the walls, at first, fretting about the canning job he’d managed to get at the fishery and whether he’d still have it the next day, feeling closed in surrounded by the room’s dingy walls and degraded décor. His craving for something chemical drove him outside where he was greeted with a wintry wonderland, the white carpeting everything as far as the eye could see. It had felt magical. Like the earth was being coated with a giant blob of white-out, and all that had gone before would be stripped clean by the time it melted. Jesse had wanted to feel that, too, more than anything. And the blissful silence had enveloped him, shushing his fears for those few moments. It had been … peaceful.

Jesse trudged to the passenger side of his Ford and banged the window to shake loose the snow. It fell in a clean sheet, revealing the black interior, and Jesse was soon sitting on the seat smoking another cigarette with the door hanging open, watching the snowflakes come down like dizzying, miniature UFOs. He worried about having the women stay for too long. He was getting increasingly frantic around them, his old patterns coming back and his anger quick to ignite. It was behavior Jesse had wanted to leave back in New Mexico, none of it had ever done him any good. He wasn’t stupid enough that he could continue to not see that. Being alone had its rough patches, but he had grown used to being still, spending hours in utter silence as he did. He could spend an entire weekend in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks or for a bowl of cereal, yet content to grapple with all that emotion on a canvas, letting those poisonous feelings mix with his oil colors and exit his body in a long, slow breath, like an evacuation of his psyche. That’s what the Doc called it, anyway.

When he got to the end of his cigarette, he flicked the butt into the snow, puffing into cupped hands to warm them up. Jesse looked back to his front window and clamped his jaw, teeth grinding. He’d just have to be direct with them. These two weren’t anything like Jack’s gang, he had to remind himself; they weren’t going to … do things to him if he didn’t answer every question. Even their threat of turning him in seemed more and more distant the closer he observed Marie, and Skyler was just being a hardass because it was the only hand she had to play. The way to get through it was to be _zen_ , as Skinny liked to call it. He smiled ruefully at the thought of his old buddy. The guy couldn’t spell for shit and was useless in a fight, but he had a good heart. Prison had definitely left its marks on Pete, though. Jesse had often teased his friend about his mangled Buddhist maxims, but now they held a certain kind of structure for the way he approached his days. At least they were better than some of the bullshit his counselor used to peddle.

As he stomped his boots in front of his door, he took another calming breath, enjoying the tingle in his nose and the pierce in his lungs from the sharp cold, before entering the house. The women were back in the kitchen, if they had ever left for the other room, and he could hear Marie humming as she moved back and forth between counters. Skyler leaned back against the oven, smoking another cigarette with an ashtray in hand. She watched him, as usual, as he walked closer, but he couldn’t read her mood. She wasn’t exactly emitting anything malevolent, so he supposed that was good. It was best to tread carefully around this woman, though, that much had made itself apparent.

“So, am I getting out the clean sheets, or what?” he asked, eliciting a cheery smile from Marie.

“You have clean sheets?” Skyler shot back wickedly.

 _Zen, yo._ _You gots to be chill._

“Always have a spare, my aunt used to say. She was a fan of the high thread counts.”

“Were you close to your aunt?” Marie asked as she stirred sugar into a coffee and then handed the cup to him.

The inquiry threw him for a second. It seemed awfully personal—a detail removed from Walt and Hank and the criminal dealings of meth making—and his guard was instantly up again. Marie, of course, had no idea what a loaded question it was for him.

  
                “Uh … yeah, we were … you could say that. Definitely. I lived with her for a while … before she died. Before I dropped out of school. She left her house to me.”

“Can I ask what happened to her? Or is that too personal?”

He took a sip of his coffee as a fleeting shot of Ginny’s face in the hospital invaded his mind: her brightly colored doo-rag wrapped around her bald head making her look all the more ghostly underneath. Her hand so cold as he gripped it tightly, that chill seeping into him until he was frozen to his seat, unable to even breathe. He remembered the warmth from the nurse’s hands shocking him as she peeled his fingers away.

“She, uh, had lung cancer.”

Both women stilled, their eyes holding the same thought.

“Whatever, man, I can see what you’re thinking. But she was nothing like Walt. She died like a normal person would.”

The news seemed to soften Skyler, however.

“I’m … sorry you had to go through that. It’s tough when you’re that young. We,” she looked over to her sister, “we lost our mother when I was in college. Marie was still a senior in high school.  It’s a hard thing to accept. Your whole world just shatters.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died in a car accident,” Marie answered, her eyes wide. “Head-on collision with a drunk driver.”

“Damn,” he offered.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. Unfortunately, my father was _not_ in the car with her,” she added with a tight smile. “One of those jokes God likes to pull, I guess. You know, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

“What, jokes?” he said flatly, feeling slightly discomfited by Marie’s virulent hatred of her father and dismissive attitude towards religion all in one sweep. Skyler’s expression hinted at a smirk, but Marie remained earnestly serious. “Sorry. I mean, I kind of believe in God, still. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re not trying to atone for your sins out here, Jesse?” Skyler asked, eyes squinting as smoke fanned across her face.

“I would if I could figure out how. I—I wanna be a good person, you know? I try every day. I’m trying my best. But atone? All the people I want to forgive me are dead. How am I supposed to ever make that better? Huh? What am I supposed to do that’s going to make a little kid feel better about his mom—”

He stopped abruptly, unable to finish the sentence. He took a sip of his coffee instead, pulling his shoulders up towards his ears in an effort to make himself smaller.

“What about turning yourself in to the police?” Skyler suggested softly.

Jesse heaved a sigh. “The only thing that’s gonna happen in prison is that I’ll get passed around like a joint before they empty my guts out on the floor.” He leveled a cold look at her. “Would that make you happy, then?”

Skyler held his gaze. “None of this makes me happy, Jesse.”

Suddenly, Marie was reaching across the counter to grip his wrist and he jerked a little, spilling the hot coffee on his hand.

“Oh, sorry.” She handed him a towel. “What about your family, Jesse? Don’t you ever want to see them again?”

The conversation was starting to get to him. “I don’t deserve a family,” he said sullenly. “They were pretty done with me, anyway.” He threw the towel towards the sink, his emotions threatening to crest again. “Look, can we just change the subject? I thought you wanted to grill me about Hank.”

They ended up around the dining room table this time, the ashtray overflowing between him and Skyler, while Marie bludgeoned him with pointed questions about her late husband. By the time he got to the shoot-out, he had remembered every detail of the scene, and Hank’s final words verbatim, relaying to them everything that had transpired as he had huddled under that car in abject terror watching it all unfold. When he told them what had been said between the two men right before Hank was killed, he expected weeping and hysterics, but was weirdly met with skepticism and incredulity, instead.

“I don’t believe it,” Marie stated dispassionately.

“What do you mean, you don’t believe it? Like, what do you mean? You think I’m lying?” Jesse prepared to get indignant, but Marie was quick to pacify him.

“Oh, not at all, Jesse, it’s Walt’s sudden compassion that I’m not buying, not you. I mean, the week before he was outright threatening Hank, then tries blackmailing us, and now all of a sudden, he’s ready to hand over 80 _million dollars_ to a bunch of Nazi thugs if Hank just promises to walk away and say _nothing_? Like, did he even _know_ Hank? Either there was some play here, or Hank was right, and that was the dumbest move in the history of moves.” She sat back in her chair with an air of authority, as if the matter had been settled and Mr. White was surely an idiot.

“And you were sure about the sum? You’re _sure_ he said it was eighty million?” Skyler asked, hunched over the table.

“Uh, yeah. He was very concerned that they all understood that part.” Jesse hadn’t been able to see Walter’s face, but he would remember that desperate begging for as long as he lived. As much as he would remember the cold delivery of ‘ _Pinkman’_ not five minutes later, and those steely eyes that had locked to his, devoid of everything that Jesse had ever come to respect in his chemistry teacher. There had been nothing left but a hollow, shell of a man. A monster of his own making.

“How did they find you?” Marie wondered, already moving past the big revelation of his story.

“Well, hey, don’t get too broken up about it, why don’tcha?” He was agog with disbelief. “Are you, like, for real with this reaction?”

“I mean … it clears up some questions we had,” Skyler said with a shrug.

“Really? Does it? I’m _so glad_ I could help you out,” Jesse told them as sarcastically as possible. “Yeah, come out here and terrify me, so I can _clear up_ your questions!  Hey! _Anytime_. Next time you need answers, I’ll just leave them on your voicemail. Or, hell, maybe I could just _text_ you. He jabbed at his palm as if he were hitting buttons on a phone. "Yeah, D-E-A-D C-O-"

“Okay, okay, Jesse,” Marie yielded, as she would a child. “But then what happened?”

“Uh, they dumped your husband and his partner in the ground, they loaded up the barrels, and Walt drove away. The end.”

By then, he was starting to suspect that the sisters were as curious about him as they were about Hank’s exit from the story, and he felt a sick sense of exploitation from the way they eyed him in the hopes he would continue. But he refused to talk about that moment after he was pulled out from under Walt’s car. Wouldn’t talk about Walt looking him in the eye and saying what he did about Jane. That was the can of ultra-pain that he was not willing to open. Not for them, not for anyone. _Especially_ not for them.

“Well, they obviously found you under the car, otherwise how did Walt manage to drive away? Why can’t you just tell us what happened next?” Marie demanded. “

“I’ll go fish out some extra blankets,” he said, getting out of his chair. “It’s gonna be cold in the room, the heater is kind of old. I’ll put some more logs on the fire, though.”

“Jesse, why won’t you tell us?” _Christ._ Marie was as persistent as her sister was unrelenting.

“Look, lady, I told you what you wanted to hear. Walt begged for Hank’s life, they shot the guy anyway. Walt got to leave and the three of us didn’t, _obviously_. And you know the rest, better than I do. That’s it. That’s what you want, right? What happened with me ain’t got nothing to do with it.”

“But you were chained up, Jesse. I saw the set-up in the lab. So that gang had you cooking product for them like a—a—a slave? That’s _important_. And how did Walt get that crazy gun contraption in his trunk to go off without them knowing? How did you get out?” Her hands continued to wave around the air like she was spinning plates, but Jesse was about ready for the night to be over. Except her awareness of the details had the back of his brain tingling.

“Wait… what? I thought you were complaining earlier that they wouldn’t tell you anything? The papers didn’t say nothing about Walt’s robo-gun in the trunk. And what do mean, _set up in the lab_? You tellin’ me they let you into the crime scene? There ain’t no way.”

“I wasn’t there, I saw the pictures. With the cable wire and the hook. The shoeprints in the dust pretty much laid it all out.”

“And who showed you all that?” He could feel that anger bubbling up again, their invasion becoming more pervasive.

He expected her to jump at the opportunity to avail him of her sources, but curiously, Marie grew silent, leaning back in her chair, brows knitted and forehead creased as though she were concentrating very hard on changing the fabric of the universe.

“Marie? Are you going to answer that?”Skyler goaded after a minute, a fresh cigarette poised in her fingers as she pawed for her lighter in her purse.

Her sister’s face grew even more pinched, like a child refusing to apologize for being naughty. She crossed her arms and looked at him squarely. “I just needed answers.”

Jesse didn’t know what the hell that was supposed to mean and shrugged askance at her.

“She’s sleeping with one of the agents from the case,” Skyler finally supplied.

“Dammit, Skyler! Can you just—? I mean, he doesn’t have to know _everything_.”

Immediately, Jesse’s temper fizzled out. This little tidbit was almost as impressive as the theft charge. He might even develop a grudging respect for the woman before this was over. Chick had balls.

“Seriously? Like, you’re literally pumping the guy for information?”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny. Albert is a decent man, alright? He’s been very … attentive. I just figured … you know, it was just—Ramey doesn’t even take my calls anymore. Hank’s SAC. And I was tired of hitting a wall. I needed help, and here was a person that wanted to help me. I don’t think it’s so wrong if I ask him questions from time to time.”

“Nah, I get it. That’s a totally crafty move. And ethics-wise—I’m not really in a place to judge, so you know, do what you gotta do. Dude’s given you some good stuff.”

“So, I’m right, then?” she pressed. “They held you prisoner and they forced you to make meth for them, and that’s going to go a long way towards building your case, Jesse.”

“Whoa. What are you talking about? My case?”  The agitation was back. “You my lawyer now?” The sisters stared back at him dolefully, riling him further. “Look, if you two are planning on screwing me over, here, and bringing in the police, tell me now. You may think you know how it’ll all play out if they bring me in, but you _don’t_. I’m tellin’ ya, the only way that situation ends is with me dead. And no matter how fucked up my life is right now, I’d still kinda like to keep it.”

Marie pressed her palms to the table and stood from her chair. “No one here is going to turn you in, Jesse. I meant what I said. I just think that you—” she looked around his little house with eyes shining from tears threatening to fall. “It’s _sad_. You, out here alone, hiding from the world, after everything you went through. I just find it hopelessly sad.”

“You don’t know what my life is like,” he told her coldly.

“But I,” she started, before Skyler cut her off.

“Marie, that’s enough. Give it a rest.” She gave Jesse an appraising look. “It’s been a long day, and we’re all exhausted. Let’s just call it a night, already.”

Jesse could have kissed her. He couldn’t handle one more question this evening, his sanity already tenuous and battered as it was. He just wanted to escape to his studio and paint out his feelings before they took over and pushed him down those darkened hallways always threatening to envelop him into nothingness. Some relief was required and the contents of that room were all Jesse had available to him.

“I’ll get those blankets.”

 

                                                -----------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It was cold in his studio, where he plugged in his little space heater, careful to keep it in the farthest corner from his work, and warmed his hands and feet in front of it as the rods blossomed into an orange glow behind the mesh. He had his sleeping bag unfurled on the middle of the floor, a tiny decorative pillow and blanket dumped at one end. The space was small, but it was meant to be a second bedroom. Jesse had all of his wood projects and tools sitting in the shed. When he’d started painting, he’d chosen this room simply because of the view from the window. It was like looking out on his own personal forest, the rows of firs extending to a point unknown. The break in the trees gave him a breathtaking glimpse of snow-peaked mountains. He tried to render the scene with his oils the first time he’d come home with a bag of art supplies, but the trees had devolved into something dark and scary, like mammoth fingers and reaching hands, the mountain morphing into a bald head. It was then that he’d decided to just let all thought evaporate and draw what came naturally, the results often startling him by the end.

Jesse had been fairly tight-lipped as he’d gotten both women their bedding and offered up his toiletries in the bathroom, making sure to leave out a few clean towels. For a brief moment, he’d considered giving Marie a pair of his long johns—they were about the same size—before it occurred to him how ridiculous it would sound for him to suggest she might want to take off her clothes for one of his, in order to be more comfortable. The most she would be doffing were her expensive high heels.  But at least she had been grateful and solicitous when he gave her his spare pillow, thanking him again for letting them stay.

Skyler, on the other hand, remained chilly as he’d handed her a rolled up blanket that had seen better days. He worried about her spending a whole night in his room. There weren’t exactly bodies in the closet, but he did have some personal items he’d prefer to keep from prying eyes: his art pad under the bed, where he sketched his worst memories; the ‘trinkets’ in his bedside drawer that the crazy Katya—a bartender from McMennin’s he’d taken home—had left at his place; the bowie knife between his mattress and box spring. He supposed that if Skyler found that last one, he’d be in for some serious trouble, and yet, he couldn’t really blame her if she deigned to use it on him. Still, if she was more concerned about him than he was about her, he figured the door would stay locked for the night. It had actually made him feel better, hearing that click from the other side as he walked away from the room.

Jesse stepped over his camping bag to make his way to the easel and stool that sat near the window, stopping at the table littered with his brushes and turpentine, a few encrusted palettes stacked on top of each other. Art supplies weren’t cheap, and probably an expense he could do without, but Jesse hadn’t ever really considered this a hobby, more of a replacement to the meth and the weed. When he’d started, he hadn’t had the construction job for very long and he was stashing what was left of the grand for emergencies, so there were often weeks where he’d choose paints over food, but for him, the paintings were sustenance that he needed even more than a meal. It had been Jane who had given him the idea to try it, steering him even beyond the grave. He’d had dreams about her for four nights in a row, and in every dream, she would explain a work of art and its importance to her. It had been one of his better weeks, and he had floated through those few mornings after in a semi-happy daze, feeling like she was trying to tell him something for his own good. When Jesse found himself in the library searching through the Art section, he chanced a look at the paintings she’d named, remembering the vivid way she’d described them, and it was then, as he absorbed the angry pictures on the page, that he understood what she had wanted him to know.  

He sat down to look upon his latest work, reflecting on the quarter of the canvas that had yet to be brought to life with color. The figure in the center, of course, stayed in white. The silhouettes never went away, they haunted every scene he’d completed. Sometimes they were Walt, sometimes they were Todd; a few of them had been of Andrea and Jane, and then there were the random guests that came into being, like the one of Gale in his apartment doorway that Jesse had given to Doc Lacey. He knew it was a reckless thing, to hand out pieces of his guilt to the people of the town, but he couldn’t always help himself. Some ghosts just couldn’t stay in his house.

He was about to start mixing some black into the red when he heard a light tap at his door.

“Jesse? Are you still awake?” Marie’s voice was faint, but he could make out a wistful note.

He debated for a second whether he should feign sleep and ignore her, already aggravated that she wouldn’t leave him alone even after all that he’d shared. The light under the doorway didn’t bother him, she could take the hint. Then he remembered that she’d given him the chip like she’d promised, right after he had handed her the sheets, and his shame drove him out of his seat.

Jesse opened the door quietly, only a fraction of the way, and stared expectantly. Marie blinked back at him before handing him his down pillow in both fists.

“I’m okay out here without this. You’ve got nothing but floor, though. Here, take it.”

He was about to mention that he was used to sleeping on floors, but decided to forego it, reaching for the pillow wordlessly, his eyes to her hands. Yet as soon as he grasped it, Marie was stepping into the room, nudging the door wider with her shoulder.

“Can I take a look? I mean, at some of your paintings? I’ve been so curious ever since that waitress described the one you gave her.” Her voice was hushed yet not quite a whisper, and Jesse’s first reaction was to push her back out and close the door in her face. But once again, he tamped down the urge, moving to one side to allow her access as he crushed the pillow to his hip. She entered gingerly, her arms wrapped around her torso for warmth while her head whipped from side to side taking in the canvases propped on either side of the walls. Seven of them hung at eye level around the room, but the rest lay languid on a dropcloth, some stacked as many as three deep. Marie stayed silent as she rotated in the center of the floor taking them all in, standing next to his makeshift bed, and hugged herself tighter.

“You painted all these?” she asked, surprised.

“Yup,” he responded, even though he knew the question was rhetorical. The black of her turtleneck emphasized her white skin under the lone light bulb in the ceiling, with the bangs she now sported across her forehead reminding him of Jane for a split second. He closed his eyes tightly, expelling the image of dead girlfriend number one lying lifeless on the bed. He had to stop doing that.

Marie pointed to one of the paintings. “Is that supposed to be Walt?”

It was a scene from the super-lab, the background covered in the red from those walls; a hazy, burnished glow in the upper right from the emergency lights. The figure stood tall in the left bottom corner, standing with arms akimbo and the bug-like rims of a ventilator mask atop its head. Behind him, taking up most of the screen, was a giant canister, the biohazard symbol replaced by a skull and crossbones. But inside the drum, instead of liquefied remains, there were images of the macabre: faces stretched in terror, bodies decaying, mouths opened in pain, and fire circling them all. And standing to the side of this monstrosity, donned in a yellow hazmat suit and cleaning the outside with a rag, stood Jesse himself— or a crude likeness of him, at any rate—looking like a tiny little boy comparatively. It was a theme that popped up a lot in his work, his stand-in always small and insignificant, while Walt’s was hulking and imposing.

“What do you think?” he answered dryly, rubbing his fingers against his temple to keep his oncoming headache at bay.

“That’s … that’s pretty horrific. Is that what you did with them all? The people they can’t find?”

Jesse sighed loudly and jutted his clamped jaw. “Uh, look … _Marie_ …you seem like a nice enough lady and all, but I really can’t …”

“Oh, I know, forget it. I know you’re probably tired of my questions, I just –it’s hard not to wonder…” she fluttered her hand in the air, “I’m sure this is difficult for you to rehash. I could see how painful it was for you on the tape.”

He glared through slits in his eyes. “Why?” he asked, his voice gravelly. “ ‘Cause I cried like a little bitch?” ( _What are we gonna do with this pussy today?_ He could hear the taunts echo in his head).

“No, no,” Marie protested. “Of course not. But you looked … so haunted. Devastated. I—I was worried about you. Wondering if you were even still alive. God only knows what kind of condition you left that place in.”

Jesse couldn’t stop the deep chuckle that came from his throat. “Seriously? You came looking for me ‘cause you were … worried?” He laughed again. “What, you want to be my mommy? Is that your thing?”

Marie looked hurt. “No. Not at all.” She frowned. “I don’t have a _thing_ , okay? But I got the distinct feeling that you don’t have a lot of people looking out for your best interests, of late. I thought maybe –maybe I could be one of them.”

“And why’s that?” he challenged, offended by her sympathy. “I told you, Walt tried to save your husband. But me? I was the reason he was there in the first place, right? If I hadn’t led them to that spot, maybe he’d still be alive. Ever think of that?”

“If Hank hadn’t talked you into baiting Walt to show up so he could arrest him, you’d never have been carted away by white supremacist meth dealers, isn’t that true, too?” she countered in a hushed shout, glancing at the door a few times. “You said that they were there because Walt called them and they were coming to kill you. But they didn’t kill _you_ , Jesse, did they? They killed Hank and Steve, instead. So, who’s supposed to save you from all of this … _damage_? It can’t be Walt anymore.”

“Why do you think you need to save me? And who asked you to?” he sneered.

Marie put her hands on her hips with a frustrated outward breath. She looked around the room again before speaking. “Jesse,” she began then smiled tightly, her mouth a straight line. “Let’s start this again, okay? I’m going to look at your paintings some more. Is that alright?”

Jesse rolled his eyes and waved a hand towards them. “Yeah, fine. Knock yourself out. Don’t be expecting no bowls of fruit, though.”

He let her go about her perusal of his works, watching her sift through them with care, pulling a painting up in her hands every once in a while to inspect it closely before delicately placing it back amongst the rest. Jesse moved to the center of the room and sat with legs folded on his sleeping bag; he couldn’t get back to the unfinished canvas with her hovering nearby. After a few minutes, he grew warm from the heat and pulled off his sweater, careful to keep his t-shirt pulled down. He threw it to land on the pillow, and then stretched with a yawn, feeling more tired than he’d been in weeks. Marie turned one of the paintings around towards him.

“What’s this one about, if I may be allowed to ask?”

It was set in a hospital, the red crosses on the white door establishing its clinical surroundings. The scene, however, was bathed in green, like they were underwater, the nurses and doctors with their backs to the viewer seeming to float in the corners.  Yet the door dominated the center of the picture, two partitions waiting to glide open soundlessly and let Jesse in. The two partitions that would turn him out that final time, never to be let back again.

“Um, it’s a …it’s a door. I’m trying to get it right,” he offered obliquely.

Marie looked stumped and Jesse sighed.

“It’s the hospital where my aunt stayed. When it got to the end. I used to go there every day. Until … you know.”

Marie held it in front of her again, her expression pensive, then gently set it on the ground to fall back against another gruesome vision splattered in red. She walked over to where he sat, where he watched in dawning horror as she parked herself next to him, folding her legs in repose just as he had done. He eyed her warily but didn’t speak, waiting for her to begin yet another series of questions.

“When my mom died, I remember being called out of class, to the principal’s office. They wouldn’t tell me she was dead, just that I had to get to the hospital right away, and that my dad was waiting for me.”

It wasn’t what he’d been expecting and he arched an eyebrow in intrigue, but still said nothing.

“Skyler was at NMSU, up in Las Cruces, so it was just me and my dad when I got there. He told me the news.” She shook her head. “You’d think he was telling me that the dog got hit, not my mother. The doctors wouldn’t let me see her body, even though I made a scene in the waiting room.” She turned to him and gave him a sad smile. “My sister thinks I’m a drama queen, but I don’t really care that she does. That’s just how I _roll_.” She shrugged in acceptance.

“So, I made a stink to the staff, even with my father yelling at me, but they kept telling me she was too mangled up, that I didn’t want to see her like that. But I _did.”_ Marie took hold of his wrist and leaned in close, making him edge back a bit, her face grave. “I _wanted_ to see my mother one last time; I didn’t care what her body had been through. She was my _mother._ ”

Jesse swallowed hard as Marie went quiet, her fingernail lazily tracing his tattoo. “Did you?” he finally asked in a hollow voice.

She shook her head no. “They wouldn’t let me without my father’s consent. And of course that asshole wouldn’t let me say goodbye to her. He was probably thrilled he had an excuse for a bender.” She kept scraping circles on his hand and wrist, the tickling making him want to pull it out of her grip, but feeling like it was too rude of a gesture for the intensity of the moment.

“Yeah, I didn’t really get on with my old man, either,” he added lamely. Marie smiled at him again.

“Was your dad an abusive drunk?” she asked, her chirpy tone belying the seriousness of the question.

“No.” He thought about the last time he saw his father, how smugly righteous he had looked as Jesse waltzed into Ginny’s house with the keys dangling from his middle finger like the biggest _fuck you_ that had ever been flung. “But he was an asshole.” He wondered what kind of man his dad was these days, if he was secretly hoping his oldest son was dead and gone forever.

“He didn’t really hit us girls,” Marie continued. “But he used to knock my mother around when he was wasted. Skyler started to get in my dad’s face when she was tall enough; she couldn’t stand the way my mother never stood up for herself. She would just tear into him, too. It was funny, though, because my dad really respected her for that. You should have listened to him boast to his friends how smart Skyler was, how talented, how her stories were so great. She was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I, of course, was the brat.” Her fingers were now folded into his, her palm resting on the back of his hand.

“When’d you start liftin’ stuff?”

She tilted her body to the side and peered at him through her eyelashes. “What?”

“You said, about you stealing the rug, that you’d backslid. How long had you been doing it?” He remembered the first time he’d jacked something from a 7-11, how thrilling it had felt, and how satisfying it had been to think of his dad’s likely reaction while he did it.

Marie wrinkled her nose in thought. It was a hopelessly adorable look on her. “Mmmm, I guess … fourteen, maybe fifteen?” 

Jesse smirked. “C’mon. You don’t forget your first time.”

“Okay, it was fourteen.”  She grinned back. Now she had turned over his hand and began stroking his wrist, tracking his veins, but it was starting to have a soothing effect on him.

“But it was small stuff back then. And I was _really smooth._ It wasn’t until college that I got into trouble. Luckily, my dad was a lawyer.”

“Is he dead?”

“Oh, no, he’s just retired,” she corrected. “He lives in California with his new family. We don’t talk to him anymore.” She cocked her head as she pondered a thought. “I … did attempt to talk Skyler into seeing him on this road trip, but she refused. Wouldn’t even entertain the thought. But we went to see Flynn at school. He’s at Berkley right now.” She slid a thumb into his palm and began to follow the lines there. “I’m glad that he’s getting an education even if he is a millionaire, but it was awkward being there.” She leaned in to him, whispering as if the room had other occupants that might overhear. She smelled of smoke and something strongly floral, whatever perfume she had on. “He’s still really angry with Skyler. It’s been … incredibly hard for her.”

Jesse didn’t know what to say, so he nodded in agreement, as if he understood. He had read the news about Walt’s son, of course, but he hadn’t figured out the connection to Walt’s money until a few days later when the name, Grey Matter, finally clicked. It had been jarring seeing the kid’s face in the news videos, and he had been unable to help wondering about Walt’s relationship with his own son. Had he been kind to him? Or was he as quick to lay into the kid when he coached him on his homework as he had been with Jesse? Had Walt been the kind of dad that his son looked up to? He’d always known that Junior was physically challenged in some way, ever since Walt had been his teacher, but seeing the guy on crutches while cameras were wielded around him like vultures circling a carcass had evoked something deep in Jesse that he hadn’t quite understood. Was it pity? Jealousy? And if it had been the latter, what had he been jealous of, exactly? It was a question that had left him with a lot of sleepless nights.

“I’m worried about her, you know. She drinks too much. Every time I say something about it, we just get into this huge fight, so I’m trying to be understanding, but …” she sucked in her breath. “She’s so much like him—my father, I mean. She doesn’t think so, of course, but she is _not_ a person you want to cross.” She wagged her finger at Jesse in warning, as if he was not already well aware of that factoid. “She’s got his business savvy, too. It’s a shame that car wash was paid for with drug money.”

 _Blood money,_ he revised in his head, his thoughts drifting to that final argument that drove him out of Walt’s lab for good. The absolute disdain that had oozed from Walt’s voice following Jesse home, where he broke out an old bong from the cupboard and spent the first evening in a long while getting stoned.

Suddenly, she was looking at him with her full attention, a sleepy smile on her face. Had she just asked him something?

“What?” he asked.

“So, tell me what it was like for you, Jesse. How’d you end up living with your aunt?”

He roughly pulled his arm from her hands and scratched at his beard. “Oh, is this the part where we share? I’m supposed to tell you about how, like, my parents kicked me out, and why I got into drugs, and then later, I can tell you all about my first crush, and like, the first time I got laid, and shit?” Jesse turned to punch up his pillow, leaving a rounded depression for his head, and stretched out his legs to lie down, angling them to avoid Marie’s body. “You think I can’t see through that lame-ass attempt? Yeah, let’s braid each other’s hair, next.”

Her hand snaked up the nape of his neck to grip a lock of his hair. “Hey!” Jesse twisted upwards to gape at her, feeling suddenly anxious, the sensation turning his skin to gooseflesh. “What the hell?”

“Your hair is getting long enough to braid, isn’t it? Maybe I should just plait some cornrows for you while you sleep,” she threatened.

“What? Why do you need to know about me so badly? What’s your deal?” She had him seriously confused. “You think you care about me or something? You don’t even know me. What is telling you about my dead aunt going to change? Really?”

Marie leaned over his chest, her hands planted to the floor on either side of him, and for the first time since they’d arrived here, he felt a curl of arousal. That in itself had him terrified. He really had no idea what she might do next but he was prepared for just about anything, at this point. She jabbed a finger into his sternum.

“It will let me know that there’s somebody else out there who _understands._ That I’m connected to you in a way that makes sense, Jesse, instead of not making _any_ sense but feeling it anyway.”

“Huh? What does that even mean?” He leaned back so he was propped on his elbows. “Are you asking me to get you off?”

Her expression turned to utter distaste and she recoiled from him, slapping at his knee as she sat up again. “Ugh. I can’t believe you just said that.”

Jesse was at a loss again, but he was quick to apologize. “Sorry. I thought … it seemed like you were coming on to me most of the night.” She flashed him another outraged look. “Look, it happens, alright? It’s not like older women have never made advances to me before.”

“Oh, really? Is that why you’re so into _MILF_ s?” she mocked, affecting some jazz hands.

“Who told you that?”

“Isn’t it on your MySpace, or My Shout, or whatever outdated website you’re using? My sister asked me what it meant after she visited your page. Like, _duh_ , Skyler.”

Jesse vaguely recalled setting that up. It felt like _eons_ ago, he may as well have been a different person back then. _“_ How’d she find it? When was this?”

“When she thought you were selling Walt pot.”

 _Oh, right._ _That enjoyable afternoon._

“Well, it’s not that I was into them so much, as they were into me, so … it was just a ... phase, you could say.”

Marie looked suspicious. “What does that mean?”

Oddly, he really wanted to explain it to her. “I, uh, gave up my v-card to an older woman,” he said, holding a palm out in front of him, as if he were about to ask for a dance. “And there were a few after that. Okay, maybe more than a few.”

“How old was she? The first one, I mean.”

“Um, thirty two?” He shrugged. “I was sixteen.”

“ _That_ … is gross,” she said, holding up a finger. “I hope the woman got into serious trouble.”

“Hardly. Unless you count getting the cold shoulder from my aunt for a month or two.” Marie’s face turned baffled. “She was, uh, part of this group my aunt had. Like, sisters of the earth, or something. Ginny was an old biker chick, kind of a hippy. She was a total wild child in her day. Which was like, _totally opposite_ of my mom, but anyway …she would have these meetings on the menstrual moon rising, or some shit, when their female power was supposed to be at its strongest. And after I moved in with her, I used to hang out with them, ‘cause some of those women were pretty hot.” And they had all been very interested in him: asking him questions about school and girls, ruffling his hair with affection, smelling so deliriously good as they pulled him in for an embrace every time they came to the house. Several of the younger looking ones had even smoked pot with him, including Josie Dillon, divorcee, mother of two, and owner of the most beautiful ass he’d ever seen.

“So, what? Did you work your way through her whole group, or something?”

Jesse’s laugh was low and raspy. “ _No-o_. They weren’t the only cougars in town.” He had an instant vision of Mrs. Jelke— _Donna_ —his eleventh grade English teacher, and all of the extra tutoring she used to give him. “Why? You jealous?” he grinned.

“Well, now you’re just getting silly,” she teased back. Marie reached a hand out and stroked along his jaw line, unsettling him. “I do like the beard, though. Makes you look older.”

“I _am_ older.” Jesse certainly felt it.

“You know what I mean. _Rugged._ ” She brushed away some hair from his forehead, straightening it over an ear. If she wasn’t trying to have sex with him, he had no idea what this was about. Then she rubbed an index finger over the bridge of his nose, brushing the bump of leftover scar tissue. He instinctively reared his head back and Marie let her hand drop to her lap. “It would be pretty sexy if I couldn’t still see the scars on your face it’s meant to cover up.”

“Scars are sexy, yo.”

“Yeah? Did your aunt used to say that, too?”

“Ginny? Nah, but she would probably agree with me. Shoulda seen some of the dudes she hooked up with in her salad years.”

Suddenly, Marie was stretching her body to the floor, lying down next to him with her head propped up on one hand.

“Sounds like Ginny was a real rebel. Is that why you two got on so well?”

He studied her closely as she waited for him to answer, trying to gleen some suggestion of nefarious intent swimming in those saucer eyes. What did she really want with him? Jesse couldn’t figure out her game, except to concede that perhaps there was no game, at all. He laid all the way back to the floor and dropped an arm across his eyes.

“Yeah, probably,” he drawled, giving in. He grit his teeth, jutting out the bottom row, his jaw moving from left to right. It was an old tick from his speed habit. “Mostly, though, it was ‘cause she just let me be myself. She didn’t expect me to be perfect at everything. It was … nice. I didn’t feel like a fuck-up 24-7, when I was living there.” He smiled to himself, remembering. “And she _hated_ my dad. Couldn’t ..stand him. Man, she loved to bitch about him. It was kind of hilarious.” A memory hit him, from the last argument Ginny ever had with his parents, the night he’d been picked up by the cops. His grin faded just as quickly.

“That must have been hard on her relationship with her sister,” Marie said.

“It was bad. Tore Ginny up, too. She’d say things like, he was a snob, that he ruined my mother, but I think—” His let his arm slide to the top of his head so he could see her face. “I think she was _really_ mad at my mom. You know, their family didn’t have money when they were growing up, and Ginny did alright for herself considering , but my mom … it was like, my mom latched on to this guy, right out of college, and he was going to be her ticket to a really nice house in a nice neighborhood and a perfect life, I guess. An upgrade to middle class. And it pissed Ginny off, ‘cause she felt like my mom was turning her back on her people, trying to act better than what she came from, right?”

Ginny’s tirades grew more volatile, too, the sicker she got. The worse the cancer, the more Jesse drifted back to his parent’s house, sleeping in his old room so he wouldn’t have to hear Ginny screaming at imaginary family members in the middle of the night. He would always be there for her come lunchtime, but daylight felt safer, less likely to stir up her rage at the way life had screwed her over. But Jesse understood now, that nighttime brought out the demons.

“Well, it’s not like your father was a meth dealer that caused her untold misery,” Marie said. “How bad could he be?”

He let out a heavy breath. “Honestly? I used to think he was a pretty big dick. Like, he’d pull dick moves on me all the time, just to remind me how worthless I was. But now? I can’t really be angry at the guy anymore. I mean, he was right, wasn’t he? And, you know, he did a pretty good job with my brother, who’s like, this awesome kid. So, it wasn’t his fault he got stuck with a defective model the first time around. I never listened. Every shitty thing that ever happened to me or to people I cared about all came down to that.”

Marie rested a hand on his shoulder. “Jesse, you’re not defective. Don’t think like that.”

“Yeah. I am.” He shifted his neck so he could gawk at her. “Did you not, like, _pay attention_ to that tape? Yo, I’ve done some fucked up shit. Can we just agree on that?”

“Okay, fine, I get it, but you’re not helping your recovery by swimming in all of this self-judgment. Blaming yourself for everything doesn’t move you forward, it just holds you in this grip of powerlessness, like you think that everything you do is going to be poison, so why bother.”

Jesse blinked at her. “Jesus. You sound just like Simon.”

“Who’s Simon?”

“Oh, just this dude who ran my Narcotics Anonymous group,” he explained. “Always telling me to stop judging myself, but personally, I thought he was opting out of his guilt for running over his kid with his truck.”

“My God, that sounds horrible.” Marie closed her eyes and shook her head, as if to erase the image. “But it does drive home my point that maybe your father wasn’t so bad comparatively. You know, people sometimes put up a persona that helps them deal with their work or with the hard choices in their life, but that doesn’t define them. Maybe your aunt just never really gave him a chance to show another side of himself.” Her fingers slid down his bicep, stopping to play with hem of his sleeve. “Hank was like that. I know he sometimes came off as a bit of a jerk to people, but he was a creampuff underneath, he really was.”

“Yeah, well, his fist didn’t feel like a creampuff when he was bashing my face in,” Jesse noted. Her hand froze, the material of his shirt still twisted around a finger. 

“He was upset. He thought you had faked that call that I was in the hospital. Of course, we found out much later that it had been Walt, but … you know that really messed him up, what he did to you. He wasn’t proud of that moment. Hank was ready to face up to the consequences, though, even if it meant losing his job as a cop, which meant the world to him.” Her finger left his sleeve and started trailing along his arm. “I blame your partner for all of that,” she finished quietly.

Jesse had had time to come to the same conclusion over the last year, but he was still surprised to hear that Hank had been ready to face the charges back then. It had never come to that, and yet, Jesse couldn’t help thinking that maybe it should have. He could still faintly recall the big speech he had yelled at Walt from his hospital bed, how ready Jesse had been to put that asswipe and his greed behind him. And how all it had taken was one little crumb of a compliment to bring him crawling back.

When Marie’s fingernail reached the inside of his elbow and started to draw circles around the crease there, he finally grabbed her hand to make her stop.

“Hey … sorry –about bringing him up like that. That was just me being an asshole, okay? It’s just this knee-jerk thing I do. I’ll try to lay off.” He turned to lie on his side so he was facing her dead-on. “I’m sure you miss him a lot.”

She nodded mechanically, staring at his shoulder. “I’m used to it now. Missing him being around. There were a lot of months after the funeral where I was just so …angry, but –Dave says I’m exhausting myself. He put me on Abilify, but it was absolutely awful, so he switched me to Lexapro.  I didn’t like that, either; I didn’t want to be a zombie. I needed to feel _something._ And the only thing that kept me going was getting all the details down. Finding out the whole truth. Finding you.”

Jesse frowned. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Is it?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I can’t say any of that makes me feel very safe, either. If you found me that easily, who’s to say—”

“Oh, it wasn’t easy. But Skyler found this guy—I guess he was an old criminal associate of Walt’s? Anyway, he was worth every penny.”

“Great. That makes me feel so much better,” he said drolly, but getting a sinking sensation in his gut. “I take it Dave is your shrink? You still seeing the dude?”

Marie nodded again, but this time more vigorously. “Dave’s wonderful. I couldn’t ever stop therapy. I wouldn’t have made it out of that nightmare without him.”

He thought about the tribulations of navigating his own nightmares. “Still, if I had a choice to know the worst, most awful truth about someone I loved, or be doped into a state of not giving a shit … I’d go for the zombie pills, man. There are just some things you don’t ever want to know.” He rubbed at his eyes, blotting out the faces behind them. “You say you wanted to see your mom’s body, or you want to hear about your husband getting shot down like a dog by some piece-of-shit white trash, but how does that make anything better? How are you supposed to go on from that?” The very idea seemed inexplicable and yet he scrutinized the face in front of him in hope of an answer.

“I think that even the awful truth can make you feel better, eventually. It might hurt like hell at first, but it frees you, in some ways.” She tried to reach for his hand again, but he moved his arm back to rest on his hip, inducing another wounded look. “It wasn’t necessary for me to identify the body, after they dug them out, but I asked to see him, anyway. I needed to see what became of Hank. I couldn’t have that one last image of him being the shot of you three walking out of the front door and him turning back to give me that reassuring smile. I couldn’t stand that.”

Jesse was horrified. “So you’d rather your last picture of him was a rotting corpse? What the fuck, Marie? That is _seriously_ messed up.” He thought about the morning he woke up to find his girlfriend’s cold, dead body next to him ( _that’s all I knew_ ), puke trailing down the sides of her face, and shivered.

“It just …it put things into perspective. His life, into perspective, maybe. There was a little part of me that always felt that one day, I’d get that call, you know? Especially after they sent him down to Juarez. But having seen him like that …. It helped me remember _every day_ that Hank was dead _,_ that he wasn’t coming back. And I could concentrate on other things.”

“Jesus.” He flashed to his aunt’s face, how still she had looked, how that moment had come upon him so fast, he hadn’t been prepared to see it. Hadn’t wanted to see it.

“I had a majorly bad reaction the first time I saw someone dead,” he told her. “I don’t know how you could put yourself through that.”

“Who? Your aunt?”

He nodded. “It was so weird. We were talking one second, she was looking right at me, and then … then there was just this thing. Her hand might as well have been a slab of meat. There was just … nothing.” He grimaced, remembering that day, because the week after became nothing but a white hot blur. “The doctor had to give me a shot of something to calm me down. By the time my parents made it to the hospital, I was,” he shook his head in regret. “I was a fucking mess. Probably said some things I didn’t mean.” And the funeral had been even worse. He could see his parents’ disgusted faces again so strongly, him having shown up late while tweaking his brains out; he hadn’t slept for three days. The shouting match he had had with his dad, in full view of everyone there.

“Well, people handle grief in different ways.”

He certainly had. It wasn’t very long after that he’d started his first cook with Emilio. Jesse thought about his words to Walter, from that early meeting in his living room— _Mr. White, I’m not good with dead bodies—_ how that had meant little to Walt and how it had eventually evolved to ‘can dissolve them in acid with little to no feeling whatsoever’. He rolled on his back.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I know my sister is depressed, and she can’t get out of it, but I wish she would just let me help her,” Marie said, almost in a whisper.

“Some people got to figure their way out on their own,” he offered sagely, knowing the truth of it intimately.

They spoke on into the night, sharing more random, meandering stories about their childhood, but Jesse faded into sleep at some point, Marie eventually sounding as if she were speaking to him from another room. He awoke before dawn with a start, but the room was still black, with only the low ember lighting from the heater for illumination. He felt a body rustle behind him pressed against his back, and Jesse stiffened, at first, trying to discern which one of them it was, listening to the other inhabitant’s breathing for a clue to their identity. It wasn’t gruff and threatening, there were no high-pitched nasal whines; it wasn’t even the shortened tufts of air that Todd released throughout the night, like the pneumatic hiss of a machine winding down. Instead, it was slow and contented, and when the small frame behind him moved again with a longing sigh, Marie’s perfume wafted to his nose, instantly calming him down. And when her hand slid over his side and curled a fist against his belly, it felt warm and safe and not bad at all. Then the deadness of slumber was upon him again and Jesse dreamed of blue skies that stretched over mountains and desert for as far as the eye could see.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skyler White, yo, has her take on things, yo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author would like to thank all of you that have commented so far. This chapter is coming to you unbeta'd, so if there are any glaring mistakes, please feel free to let the author know. The author will acknowledge having a bit of trouble transferring her Word doc to the Rich Text with any regular indentations.
> 
> This is getting posted early today to make up for getting the update online late last week.

 

**_Chapter 4_ **

# 

It was the smell of bacon that awakened Skyler.

 

                She came into consciousness with the thought that Walt was trying to impress them with breakfast again, making up for something shady, getting ready to spin his lies. But then the rest of the room’s smells drifted over her and Skyler realized she wasn’t in her own bed. This wasn’t even the perfumery of the hotel, but something woodsy and distinctly male.

 

_Pinkman._

She put a hand behind her to reach for Holly, but there was nothing there. Skyler bolted up from the mattress, looking around the bed and the room for her daughter and instantly panicking at her absence. She was about to call out, but her hearing attuned to the chatter from the rest of the house: a squeal of delight, Marie laughing. The deep rumble of Pinkman’s voice. Skyler stared at the wall in front of her, eyes trying to bore through the wood, and wondered what kind of scene she would find out there. Marie was probably inviting him to live with her, or something equally as crazy, knowing her sister.  She rubbed her hands over her face and across the top of her head, trying to prepare herself for another day of this.

 

It had unnerved Skyler, seeing how quickly Marie had glued herself to Pinkman, casting herself as his advocate long before they’d even decided to come here. She was projecting all over the place, and Skyler had hoped that at least seeing Pinkman in person would finally disenchant her somehow. Marie had created this life for the guy based on that awful tape, and it was becoming increasingly unhealthy, in Skyler’s opinion. She hadn’t quite believed it when Marie told her Dave approved of this trip, but then she recognized that her sister had always been as fluid with the truth as her husband. Or Heisenberg, rather. Whoever the fuck he’d been.

 

Skyler eased out of the bed quietly and pulled up her purse from the floor. She prised apart the sides and slid her hand inside, rooting for the cold metal of the gun. Yes, it was still there, snug beside her make-up bag and cigarettes. She glanced over her shoulder at the door and wondered, not for the first time (or even tenth time), what Pinkman’s capacity for violence might be at this stage. He hadn’t acted shifty or suspicious the entire time they’d been with him, and he certainly _looked_ the worse for wear, his emotions cascading out of him like froth from a beer glass. In fact, he’d seemed surprisingly transparent and cooperative. But she couldn’t be too careful; he was definitely not one to be trusted.

 

She moved about the room efficiently, eager to get back in her slacks and boots. It was bitterly cold being out from under the blankets and she dressed hurriedly, scraping her hands through her hair when she was done in an attempt to brush it. It was almost to the middle of her back at this point, and she reminded herself to make an appointment to get it cut when they were back in New Mexico. Maybe she’d cut it all off, give herself a new look that wasn’t so easily recognizable. Perhaps she could do it when she made it to someplace new, start from scratch with a new identity just like Pinkman had done. She just needed to pick a state. Or a country. She still had the vacuum repair guy’s number sitting in Walt’s old wallet, and Flynn’s lawyers were still dumping money in a bank account for her every month. Anything to keep Skyler away from him.

 

_No, don’t think about that_. She slapped at her cheeks to wake herself up a bit more, along with the brisk temperature. Skyler’s gaze flitted about Pinkman’s room in search of something he might not miss. Something small but likely covered in fingerprints. There wasn’t much to look at, outside of the few pieces of furniture and a dresser. Some work boots propped against a wall. A stack of books on the floor –the bindings thin but long, the few titles she could make out suggesting Pinkman was working on his drawing skills. She went back to his bed side table, recalling the contents in the drawers she’d rummaged through during the night. Some of it she didn’t dare touch ( _leather wrist cuffs? Figures Pinkman would be kinky)_ , but there was an item she thought he might not notice for several days.

 

She sat on the other side of the bed and noiselessly slid the drawer open, reaching for the envelope with a tissue. Inside was a laminated photo, and Skyler pulled it out and dropped it in the plastic baggie she’d had tucked at the bottom of her purse. If he had it hidden away, it was probably something he only looked at occasionally, she reasoned. She stared at the two faces in the photo, the crumpled crease down the center leaving a ridge in the plastic. Maybe he only looked at it when he could bear it.

 

When she opened the door of the room, more cooking smells assaulted her and Skyler’s stomach lurched. She needed a drink. Her flask was empty and they were snowed in and that thought alone put her in a foul mood. This whole morning was going to be hell until they could get to town and fill up on … _supplies_.

 

“Nose. _Nose!_ ” her daughter screamed.

 

As soon as Skyler saw them sitting there, a chill ran through her, and she stomped across the floor to the dining area. Holly was on Pinkman’s lap—it was Marie who was cooking in the kitchen— and Skyler’s fear caught in her throat as she watched her little girl reach for his nose again while he covered his face. Holly screeched again with laughter when he pretended to swipe hers off, but by then, Skyler had made it to where they sat at the table. She brusquely ripped Holly off his lap, already moving in the other direction.

 

Pretending not to notice his offended expression, Skyler shifted Holly to the hip opposite from her purse, walking towards Marie at the stove. Holly squirmed in her arms, reaching back for Pinkman with some whiny protestations, but Skyler ignored those, too. It annoyed her that she seemed to be the only one on this trip who could remember that the guy was a killer. No matter how _bad_ he felt about it, he had still killed people. And had willingly chosen to produce and profit off a drug that ruined lives. She’d repeated the words so many times to Marie, but talking to her sister had often been an infuriating endeavor. Even looking at Marie’s face now was testing her cooperation in this project, her sister’s disapproval blatantly stamped there.

 

“Good morning,” Skyler croaked in greeting. Marie shook her head in disappointment, before she cocked her head towards the dining room.

 

“Jesse, I found a green pepper in your fridge. Should I put some in the omelet?”

 

“Put whatever you like in there,” he answered moodily.

 

“Okay, well, breakfast will be ready shortly. Do you want some more coffee?”

 

Skyler heard the chair groan and squeak as it was pushed back. She glanced over to see him heading for the door, pulling his coat off the hook.

 

“I’m gonna start shoveling, okay? Just save me a plate.” He looked back over his shoulder. “You ladies can start without me.” And then he was gone. Skyler let out a breath, ready to lay into her sister, but Marie beat her to the punch.

 

“Really? You’re going to treat him like he’s some sort of criminal the whole time we’re here?” she accused.

 

“He IS a criminal, Marie. Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to say this?  And now you’re making _breakfast for him_?” Skyler cried. “I don’t know why you can’t seem to understand me. He is _dangerous._ ”

 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Marie insisted, returning to her cooking.

 

“Well, of course you wouldn’t, because you’ve obviously gone insane.” Holly appeared to take umbrage with the remark, slapping at her mother’s cheek. Skyler turned to set her down on Pinkman’s couch, noticing the bundle of bedding sitting on the end of the wooden bench. “Did you even sleep last night? I could hear you, you know.”

 

Marie didn’t look at her. “Hear what?”

 

“The two of you talking? The mumbling from his studio kept me up for a while. So, what? I suppose you’re best buddies now?” she said snidely as she settled Holly down with her teething ring. She was met with silence. Skyler stood to her full height and studied her sister. “Marie? How long were you in there?”

 

Marie flipped the omelet in its pan, seemingly determined not to respond. Skyler turned to look at the pile of sheets again, a terrible thought invading her brain like spilled wine soaking through carpet.

 

“Oh …God, no. Marie, please. _Please_ tell me, you didn’t sleep with him?”

 

That provoked an immediate reaction, Marie’s mouth dropping in horror, the spatula in front of her like a sword. Her pale skin had turned bright pink, however, belying her incredulity.

 

“What the _hell_ is the matter with _you_ , Skyler?” she exclaimed. Marie shot a glance to the front door and then shook her head at her sister. “How could you even jump to such a conclusion? I just –I can’t –what is that? Why would you think that?” She turned to the stove and the skillet, making disgusted noises as she attacked the eggs, aggressively scraping them from the pan. “We just talked,” she said.

 

“Well, great, let’s just keep it that way, shall we?” Skyler chastised, holding up a hand in caution.

 

“He’s not what you think he is,” Marie added, moving around the kitchen to find some plates.

 

“Is that so? And what exactly is he, Marie? Tell me all about the meth-making, dope dealing, _murderer_ -slash-fugitive and how he’s really just a misunderstood carpenter. He’s really just puppy dogs and rainbows, right?” She crossed her arms, preparing for another battle.

 

“Oh, please, are you really going to toss around scary labels, as if you don’t have first-hand, personal knowledge of what it was like dealing with _Walt?_ Or do I have to remind you what happened to _Ted?”_ Skyler flinched, breathing heavily. “Jesse is a _person_ , Skyler—a _traumatized_ person. He’s made terrible decisions and done terrible things, I agree. But I didn’t come here with the intention of being his judge and jury.” She slammed a ketchup bottle on the counter. “And he made us dinner last night and let us stay overnight in his home, at great risk to him, so I figured the _least_ I could do was offer to cook breakfast.”

 

Hearing Marie unknowingly echo Walt’s speech to her in that fancy hotel made her suck in her breath, her eyes watering. It incensed her, having to listen to them both, as if Jesse’s crimes were somehow more absolvable than Skyler’s. Marie had certainly spent several months passing judgment on _her,_ and the mention of Ted only confirmed the notion that Marie couldn’t get past Skyler’s role in it all.

 

“Speaking of judge and jury, Marie—are you going to do what I told you?” She lowered her voice, suddenly aware that she couldn’t hear the _scritch_ of a metal shovel across the snow. “I mean, you’re facing possible _jail time_ , and here we are, in his home, and you’ve got something to give them...” 

 

“That’s not happening,” Marie stated curtly, cutting her off. “I made him a promise. I’m not breaking it. I don’t care what happens to me.” She grabbed two plates and started heading for the dining room table.

 

“Of course you do,” Skyler persisted, in a hushed shout, following her. She threw up her hands in futility. “I don’t get it. What is so great about this kid? You and Walt, you’ll sacrifice your own best interests for him, and for what? Why is he worth the trouble?”

 

Marie put the plates down and turned to her sister, her expression serene. “Why don’t you talk to him and find out yourself?” she said, resting a hand on her hip. “I don’t think you buy half of what comes out of your mouth, Skyler. I think you’re looking to make him your scapegoat. The reason for all of your problems. I mean, you had Walt, of course, but he’s not here anymore, is he? But maybe if you can leave all of your guilt at Jesse’s feet, maybe that will make it better? So you don’t have to think about why Flynn won’t talk to you, or why you can’t get through the day without a drink?” She lifted her shoulders in a sad shrug. “I’m not blind, Skyler.” She moved around her to make another trip to the kitchen, talking over her shoulder as she went. “And he’s not a kid.” Skyler heard her opening drawers and rummaging for silverware, then pulling out juice from the fridge for them to drink. The domesticity of the scene would have struck Skyler as obscenely hilarious, if she hadn’t felt like she was going to start screaming with the next second that went by that didn’t include a glass of vodka in her hand.

 

Marie went about her business while Skyler stood there numbly; pouring them juice, gathering Holly to sit at the table and handing her a filled cup. She finally sat down and looked up at Skyler, waving a hand over the food on the table. “Are you eating?”

 

Skyler sighed and pulled out a chair, feeling momentarily defeated in this latest argument. They all sat quietly at first, just the sound of scraping forks across the plates, as she made an attempt to get some of the food down.

 

“You know, both Albert and Bob think I’ll get off,” Marie said in between mouthfuls of egg. “You shouldn’t worry so much. Bob said that Dave’s testimony will go far in convincing a judge that I’m –not thinking clearly in my grief and PTSD.” She reached for her glass and drank a few gulps of her juice, setting it down to calmly continue the conversation. “And if you try to –e _ven think—_ to turn Jesse in behind my back, I won’t speak to you ever again.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and set it on her lap. “We can figure everything else out when we get back home.”

 

Skyler stared at her sister as she resumed eating contentedly, watched as Marie turned to Holly’s plate at one point to cut up some more omelet for her niece. It wasn’t a new threat, but Skyler was getting tired of hearing it, feeling pulled along like a donkey over inhospitable terrain with every utterance.  Marie used to say the same thing as a girl, every time they would have a fight ( _give me back my Malibu Barbie right now, or I will never speak to you again!),_ but back then, Skyler would play the silent game first, until Marie would cry and push at her, demanding that she say anything at all _._ But she had needed her sister back in her life once Flynn was gone. She couldn’t stand the days of solitude that had followed, with only Holly and her guilt to keep her company. The endless nights of berating herself for not stopping things sooner, how she had finally admitted the truth to her mirror’s reflection one morning— she had liked parts of it as much as Walt had. The shame of it made her want to disappear, made her wish that her very flesh could become inconsequential, able to slip down the drain in her bath, or dissolve into the walls, to return to form elsewhere as something different. Yet, being a mother meant that she had to think outside of herself, that she could switch to autopilot and at least get up to feed her daughter, to take her to the park every now and again, to email her son once a week even if he wouldn’t read it.

 

Moving solely to function, however, left her hollow and brittle, where only a drink could fill that vacuous space inside, or shut-out the constant voices blaming her for letting it go on, the voices all sounding so much like her son and her sister. So she allowed Marie to make her threats, to hold her suffering over Skyler with the sanctimonious fervor of preacher at the pulpit, all so she wouldn’t have to deal with the debilitating loneliness, but it never went down easy. A little libation was definitely required. She swirled a forlorn piece of wilted pepper around her plate with a fork, damning Pinkman for not keeping a stocked cupboard of liquor like a normal adult. His recovery speech the night before had irritated her and she was not sure why. Something about it had felt unfair. She had expected to find him in a bad way—jittery or stoned, or equally high on some new substance she wasn’t familiar with. Had _wanted_ to find him like that, to show Marie once and for all, that … what? He was _undeserving_ of his getaway, even though Skyler herself had been granted a reprieve? Marie would always turn her arguments against her. But Pinkman seemed just fine –if a little shaky—and she imagined that Marie would find a way to use the information to build up her mythos of him, as well. _Look, he’s doing so much better than you._ _And he was held prisoner!_ It was enough to drive Skyler through the middle of a snowstorm for another drink.

 

It wasn’t just Marie, though. _There’s some emotional problems, some drug use …_ Walt’s voice still attempting to convince her that his partner wasn’t a threat had been echoing in her ear since they had arrived here.  _He's only ever been a danger to himself ..._ When Marie had told her about the photos of the evidence suggesting Pinkman had been held captive, saw the chains and cuffs lying next to the body of that awful blond boy, she had known instinctively that Walt had gone back there to save him.  Still protecting his sidekick till the bitter end, like some kind of lover that he would never be over. Because it had often felt like that, as Skyler had inserted the knowledge of Pinkman into her memories of Walt’s early behavior, after the diagnosis. She had watched the tape, with her sister by her side gripping her arm during all the times the kid would tear up (which was a lot, her arm had bruises by the end of it), and she had felt that sickening realization that Walt had always been _present_ with this guy, something that she had rarely felt with her husband until the harrowing end, when it was all she could do to not scream every time Walt touched her. She doubted Flynn had felt it, either. Walt had left their family a long time ago, and they’d all become his hostages in service to an idea that let him continue his moral decline until there had been nothing left of the man she once used to adore.

 

Skyler heard boots banging on the porch and turned to watch the door, wondering what their little damsel-in-distress would be like this morning. Marie shot her a meaningful look, her eyes widening, and Skyler understood that she was expected to play nice, bemusedly imagining that her sister was now listening in on her thoughts, too. The door opened, letting in a bright blare of sunshine into the living room, the light spraying over the table and making Skyler look away.

 

“Oh, thank goodness the snow stopped,” Marie said to Jesse, as he shook off his coat with a glove held in his teeth by one of the fingers. He tossed the pair to the small desk under the window, then shuffled towards them in socked feet, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them for warmth. “Let’s hope the sun melts most of it away,” she added before standing up. “I’ve got your food in the oven, Jesse. Sit down and I’ll get it.”

 

“Nah, I got it.” Jesse moved past their table, careful to keep some distance between his path to the kitchen and Skyler’s chair. “And the sun ain’t gonna melt that much. Supposed to get more snow tonight, but that’s good, ‘cause it’s the ice that causes all the problems.”

 

Marie sat down again. “So we’ll still need to pick up some chains?” she called out to him, even though Jesse appeared to bypass the kitchen and headed to the room equating his studio. Skyler caught a small glimpse of it from her place at the table, before Jesse was walking through the door again with a rectangular canvas in his hand, the length of it making him stick it out in front of him as he passed back into the living room. He came towards them and set it down on the floor sideways, propping it against the wall in front of the kitchen before he turned to make his way to the oven. Skyler bent her head so she could see what the painting revealed, as she heard the bang of the oven door closing.

 

“What’s this?” she asked.

 

“Jesse gave it to me as a gift,” Marie informed her, looking quite keen as she grabbed a piece of toast.

 

“Did he now?” Skyler leaned back in her chair, still not able to get a full-length view of it. All she could make out was a midnight blue background with a grid stamped across it. Jesse stayed in the kitchen, eating standing up while reclining against the oven, but he glanced at her furtively across the counter.

 

“Yes, take a look,” Marie said, as she got up once more to proudly display the artwork in her hands for Skyler to see. “He’s going to paint me another one, too. On commission.”

 

Skyler raised an eyebrow at the last part, but remained quiet. She took in the canvas in front of her, studying what was obviously meant to be dark blue sky dotted with stars, but the entire span of it was criss-crossed with gray bars. A view from a jail cell. One star in the center appeared to twinkle more brightly than the rest, glowing in pink and purple and looking strangely like it possessed the ears of a bear. There was a blob of white to the side to suggest a head and shoulders; a figure peering down from the side of the frame. A shiver ran through Skyler and she crossed her arms to put her hands up to the sides of her shoulders, closing herself off from the memory of black-masked men in a nursery.

 

“You want this in your house?”she asked her sister with some consternation. It was creepy as hell.

 

“I do,” Marie replied simply. She turned to Pinkman. “I really love it, Jesse. Thank you for this.”

 

“Well, better your house than mine,” he croaked. He coughed into his fist and then grabbed for a glass nearby, wiping his beard with the back of his hand after a sip. “You’re doing me a favor taking it.”

 

Marie smiled warmly and Skyler did her best to refrain from rolling her eyes. But his words bothered her, the idea that Pinkman could manifest his bad memories into copies that he could foist onto others. She didn’t need to be reminded of what he went through in that place.

 

“So what are you going to be painting for my sister, then?” Skyler tipped her chair back a fraction and craned her neck, in order to see his face. “And when?”

 

But Pinkman didn’t speak, just gazed, under thick lashes, towards her sister.

 

“He’s going to do a portrait for me. Of Hank.”

 

Skyler stared at Marie dully, not quite comprehending the news. It had to be some kind of joke.

 

“Jesse needs to work on some details, get some practice on painting certain facial features. So I suggested he do one of Hank.”

 

A thousand nasty comebacks tumbled to her lips, but Skyler pressed them tightly together, not daring to express even one word for fear that she’d invite an avalanche of rebuke. Jesse walked to the other side of the table, giving her a wide berth again, and sat down, dropping his stocking cap in front of him. He screwed up his mouth, as though deep in thought, then shrugged to Marie.

 

“I don’t know how long it’ll take. Or how I’m supposed to get it to you. Did you have some … sort of plan?” he asked hesitantly.

 

“Well, we might stay for a bit.”

 

The stunned silence of the room may as well have been an explosion, for the impact it imparted.

 

“ _What?_ ” Skyler glared at her sister, feeling like the last straw had not only snapped, but had been obliterated into dust. “And who, exactly, is _we?_ ” she demanded, her tone icy.

 

“You can’t be serious?” Pinkman added. “That’s … that’s not really a good idea.”

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be _discreet_ ,” Marie assured him, but he turned to Skyler in obvious distress, his eyes panicked and appealing to her for some assistance. 

 

“Marie, you’re being crazy. You have to appear in court in _three weeks_ , remember? We have to get you ready, you’ve got meetings with Bob, I need to get Holly back ….”

 

“I know that, Skyler,” Marie bristled. “But if we leave Friday, we still have time.”

 

“It’s _Saturday,_ yo,” Pinkman cried. “You ain’t stayin’ a week. People here … they’re gonna notice you,” he insisted, his voice rising an octave.

 

“Alright, calm down, you two. It was just a thought.” Marie was upset by their reaction. “I—I just wasn’t ready to leave, yet.” She cast her eyes down to her hands in her lap. “I don’t think –I haven’t fully gotten closure.”

 

“Oh my god.” Skyler leaned forward, dropping her face into upturned palms. She took a deep breath and let it out between clenched teeth, willing herself not to reach over and throttle her sister. Marie’s dedication to making everything about her was at least a trait that remained consistent.

 

“Closure?” Pinkman echoed. “Well, who the hell is gonna get that?” Skyler watched him through her fingers, hoping that perhaps he could make some headway with Marie, since her sister appeared to hang on to his every word. “You think any of us are just going to get over this, like, _ever_? Were you really expecting to feel like things would go back to normal, just ‘cause I told you how your husband’s murder went down?”

 

Marie answered him softly, head still bent. “I don’t really know that I was expecting anything, other than the truth.” She looked up at him. “But yes, I guess I was hoping to feel like things could be … bearable.”

 

Pinkman stared off into the distance, his eyes haunted as he spoke. “Yeah, well, you can make anything bearable. Just try not to think.”

 

“Try not to think about what?” Skyler asked, feeling a chill up her neck.

 

“ _Anything.”_

 

Silence hung over the table, Skyler’s gaze glued to him, until Holly clanged a spoon against her plate, making Sklyer jump in her chair. Holly held her hand out towards her mother, grunting noises issuing from her in petition, and Skyler got up to tend to her daughter, shaking off Pinkman’s dread with a toss of her hair.

 

“Well, what about today?” Marie inquired.

 

“What about today, what?” he replied.

 

“It’s still a little treacherous out there, and we still need chains, right?”

 

“Yeah, well, mine ain’t gonna fit your tires, I already tried. But the roads are probably fine. You should be alright till you get into town.”

 

“Could you come with us?”

 

Skyler stilled at Marie’s request, her daughter squirming to get out of her arms and to the floor. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Marie wouldn’t give up easily, but it was still trying on her nerves. She stood up straight and was ready to voice her objection, when Pinkman spoke again.

 

“Are you, like, ever going to let this go?” he asked pleadingly, seemingly resigned to the outcome.

 

“Look, we can follow behind you, so it doesn’t even have to appear that we’re together. Just get us to a place where we can, you know, get what we need. I can give you the address of our hotel and you just meet us there and we’ll get those chains on.”

 

Pinkman rubbed at his eyes with both hands, his jaw jutting out and back teeth scraping against each other. She noticed he tended to do it often under duress, particularly during his video confession. There was something worn down in the stoop of his shoulders, his expression so miserable but accepting of his fate. It occurred to Skyler that even though Marie had relinquished the tape to him, he was still at their mercy. All it would take was one word from her to the local sheriff’s office, and Pinkman would be behind bars. And even though Marie had prevented her from taking that tack, a promise that she would adhere to no matter how much her sister’s actions troubled her, that feeling of having some power over her husband’s partner stirred something deep in Skyler. A sudden idea inserted itself into her thoughts.

 

“Actually, that’s not a bad suggestion,” she said, prompting a gape from their host. “Why don’t I drive with you, Jesse, and Marie can follow behind us.”

 

Even Marie was taken aback. “Oh, uh … but you drive better in the snow, Skyler. I thought _I might_ sit up with Jesse, while you and Holly follow us.”

 

For the first time that morning, Skyler felt that small thrill of satisfaction bloom in her chest. She knew it was petty, but the tiny victories were all she had to look forward to these days. She smiled at her sister.

 

“Oh, but you’re so much more _sober_ than I am, Marie.” She turned to Jesse, looking down to him with the smile still stuck to her face. “You don’t mind some company, do you, Jesse?”

 

He motioned a hand between them, his voice flat. “Uh, that kind of defeats the purpose of traveling in two vehicles, wouldn’t you say? You know, being seen together and all?”

 

She lifted up a shoulder cavalierly. “Would it? It’s a long drive between here and the middle of town, not a lot of cars out today, I’m willing to bet. Besides, my sister thinks we should get to know each other better and I’m inclined to agree.”

 

They stared at each other, caught in a Mexican stand-off of wills, but Jesse turned away first, his defeat clearly written on his face. Skyler felt a sick twist in her gut but ignored it, suddenly eager to get on the road.

 

“Okay, then … let’s _vamanos_ , people.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their drive was wordless at first.

 

She let Pinkman steep in his resentment while she scanned the forest around them, somewhat pleased with the snow-covered landscape in spite of the disadvantages it brought with it. The outside had a hushed quality, making it feel like the earth was holding its breath waiting for something to happen. Skyler supposed she felt the same way, and for the first time in a long while, she held fast to the notion that she still possessed some agency in her life, that perhaps she could rally some control back into her corner. Because of Jesse Pinkman.

 

The truck bucked and rocked over a patch of frozen snow in the road and she put a hand on the seat to steady herself, accidentally brushing against his fingers. He pulled his arm away as if he’d been scalded by boiling water, reaching for the wheel so that both hands gripped the rim.  He slowed and then downshifted, his knuckles white over the knob, the stick long and curved like a giraffe’s neck. It was an old truck, the parts showing the signs of age and expressing their lament in a grind or groan with every shift. The seats were split in a few places, some tufts of foam sticking out of one, but the Ford held up over the dips and slides that the snow hazarded them with. Skyler watched a rabbit dart across the road up ahead, practically a blur as it sped into the brush. Pinkman put his foot lightly on the brake, slowing them again, and then glanced into the rear view mirror to watch the progress of the BMW behind them. She turned in her seat and looked over her shoulder, trying to make out her sister’s strained face through the frost on the back window. She wiped a hand over the glass, smearing it with condensation but able to see the car more clearly. Jesse reached over to turn up the heat.

 

“So what were you talking about last night after we went to bed?” she asked, wanting to hear another sound besides the engine and the blast of hot air coming from the dash.

 

He gave her a side glance before quickly returning his eyes to the road. “What are you talking about?” he responded, a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.

 

“With my sister,” she explained. “I could hear you both in the other room. I just wondered what you two had to discuss.” She paused for a moment, watching his face. “She seems awfully quick to trust you.”

 

He side-eyed her again, just as he swerved to avoid another mound of ice, but didn’t answer right away, straightening out  the car and then peering back into the rear view mirror. He pulled open the ashtray and took a last draw on his cigarette before stubbing it out.

 

“Just stuff. Family, I guess,” he told her with a shrug. “Your sister likes to talk.”

 

“Yeah, she does,” Skyer agreed. “Marie likes to know everything. About everyone. All of the time.” She winced to hear herself, checking the car over her shoulder again, as Jesse had done, barely making out Marie’s face this time when a ray from the sun hit the windshield. She wasn’t worried about her sister’s driving abilities; she knew that with Holly in the car, Marie would take all measures to be careful. It was the one thing about her, at least, that she could always count on. “She’s just … you know, she’s very protective of the people she cares about.” Skyler fiddled with the seat belt at her shoulder as she turned to face the front. “She’ll fight to the death for them.” A surge of feeling hit her throat, her eyes watering for a moment before she was able to blink them away. She let out a long, shaky breath.

 

“She seems really … nice.” He took a beat. “Kinda sad, though. She’s worried about you,” he said, twisting his head to catch her eye.

 

Skyler gave a dry laugh. “Nice. _Right_. The lady that’s blackmailing you is nice. Very good, Jesse. Nice spin.”

 

“Well, at least she’s not being a dick about it, like her husband,” he replied off-handedly.

 

The comment made her turn her head sharply; she thought she should be insulted on Hank’s behalf, but Pinkman didn’t seem too concerned. Skyler sought to change the subject, not wanting to discuss Hank any more than she had to.

 

“So, if I recall, you have a brother, don’t you?” She reached over to turn down the heater, lessening the noise. “That’s what the papers said, at any rate.”

 

He took his time to answer.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Younger, right? By quite a bit?”

 

Pinkman cleared his throat. “He, uh, turned fifteen last month.”

 

SKyler nodded her head, as though she empathized. “Yeah, it’s never fun being the oldest.”

 

He shrugged again. “I don’t really know him that well.” He shifted up, the truck shuddering for a moment. “My mom didn’t really like me around Jake when he was little. Me being the bad influence, and all.”

 

“And yet, here you are, using your brother’s name,” she noted. “Bit curious, don’t you think?”

 

“Got to call myself something.”

 

“Hmm, the brother and the aunt. Representing the ABQ,” she added winsomely, remembering that long ago voice message.

 

Jesse looked at her as if she’d grown another head. “What?”

 

“I wouldn’t be able to repeat it if I tried,” she told him cryptically, disregarding his confused expression. “So … you were a bad influence at all of, what? Eleven, huh?”

 

“Apparently.”

 

“Typical problem child, I assume? A real handful, I bet. I remember the first time I saw you, all those ‘ _yos’_ and the street slang, wearing those loud, baggy clothes, I didn’t know what to think. When the reality was that you grew up in a perfectly normal, suburban household. I mean, what do your parents even do, Jesse? Probably white collar. Conservative.”

 

“You tell yourself whatever you want, lady,” he said, his tone emotionless.

 

“But how close am I? What does your dad do, really?” She had seen them, of course, being interviewed on television by a news crew, but it felt good to goad him about his upbringing. He’d had every chance available to him, unlike the impoverished kids he’d aped in their speech and styling.

 

He sighed heavily, his annoyance buoyant. “He’s an engineer,” he intoned. “Happy, now?”

 

“Well … it just begs the question, Jesse. What happened to you? What was so terrible in your life that you had to become a criminal? How’d you even get _into_ meth making, Jesus Christ.”

 

He answered calmly. “I can tell you how your _husband_ got into it.”

 

Skyler felt the sting of his comment, but chose not to remark on it. She wasn’t about to let him draw first blood. She stared out of the window at the trees whipping by like frames of a film until her ire abated.

 

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

 

She glared at the side of his face, but he stared vacantly ahead, unmolested by the invisible fireballs she was shooting from her eyes.  She scrambled in her thoughts for another approach, but then he was speaking again.

 

“When Jake was born, I was real excited about having a brother. Thought it would be fun, you know? Maybe get a break from my hardass of a father, ‘cause his attention wouldn’t always be on me.” He slowed as they came to a bend in the road, adjusting the rear view so he could keep Marie in his sights. Skyler stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

 

“When he was like, I don’t know, maybe a month or two old, I got in trouble at school and my parents had to go in for a conference with the teachers. Or maybe it was the principal, I can’t really remember. I don’t even remember what it was that I did, exactly, but whatever, I just know my mom was super upset about it. And so I was grounded, stuck in my room, but I could hear her, having a fit in the kitchen while my dad tried to chill her out.” He chanced a glance in her direction, and held her gaze for a second, before turning back to the road, rooting around in his jacket with his free hand until he found his pack of cigarettes. He tapped it against the wheel and then offered her the one that slid partially out, just the speckled tan band revealed. She pulled it from the package while he fiddled with the lighter on the dashboard.

 

“Here,” she said, digging for the one in her purse and then bending her body towards him, holding the flame close enough so that he could catch it with the cigarette held between his lips. He puffed smoke from between them and then sucked in again before pulling the cigarette away, his mouth making an O shape when he exhaled, the lazy white circles rising up above him like snapped out rubber bands. Skyler smirked in spite of the somber mood of his story; she imagined that worked on a lot of twenty year-olds.

 

“So, then it got real quiet. And I was starting to worry, like they were plotting something bad, you know, paranoid shit that kids think up. I snuck out of my room, even though I knew they’d probably ground me for another week if they saw me, but I was nervous, for whatever reason, so I just did it. And I found them in Jake’s room—I was hiding in the hallway by the open door, but I could hear them, talking by Jake’s crib. And my mom, she was crying, like, just really sad. But I guess my dad was trying to cheer her up or something. And he told her,” Jesse stopped for a moment, turning to the window on his left, rolling it down an inch so he could blow smoke through the crack. He made a clearing noise in his throat.

 

“He told her, basically said to her, _we’ve got another chance to do it right, this time.”_ He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the cab like atomic ash. “So … I just figured, I don’t know, why bother? No one was expecting anything great from me, anyway, right? I guess I felt ... marked. Like someone had stamped ‘reject’ on me, you know, _denied_. I was going to have to make my own way, I wasn’t ever gonna fit with what my parents wanted.” He suddenly turned to her. “I know it sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself, and, sure, I was at the time, no doubt about it, but,” he smiled shyly, “I’m just sayin’, it wasn’t, like, _happy,_ growing up in my family. Things can be rough, even when it looks all perfect on the outside. I thought you might get that, at least.”

 

“Why do you say that?” She shook her head. “Why should _I_ get it?”

 

“You know, being your old man wasn’t no peach, respectable lawyer or not. Marie said you used to be a real badass, too, getting up in his grill, facing him down.” He raised his eyebrows, affecting an impressed air. “So, I guess you’re all like, _tough_ and everything. Take no shit, kind of gal? Makes me wonder how you ever ended up with Mr. Full-Of-Shit.”

 

“Yeah, well, it was considerably less shit when I met him,” she cracked.

 

“Seriously?” His raspy chuckle sounded dangerously sexy. “I don’t know, I’m trying to picture that and it’s like trying to imagine a world without life forms.”

 

“I seem to recall he was a pretty popular teacher with his students, Pinkman. Even if you weren’t one of his fans.”

 

He stilled. “Man, I really wish you guys would stop using that.”

 

“Sorry,” she muttered, not quite sure what his beef was with his name. It wasn’t as if anyone else could hear them. “But the point is Walter was a decent man for a lot of years. Until he found out he was _dying of cancer_ , for Christ’s sake. It changed him, obviously.”

 

Jesse scoffed. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

 

“Of course I do.” She jerked her head back, offended. “Why wouldn’t I? I _was_ married to the man for almost twenty years. I think I knew him better than you, Jesse.”

 

His eyes widened, before looking back to the road. “O-kay. But don’t you think –I mean, Walter had _issues._ And like, a lot of ‘em. It seemed to _me—_ and yeah, I didn’t know him as long—but, I always thought that he was just like that already, had that darker side, but he’d always kept it in check before, ya know? ‘Cause he was, like, upstanding in the community, or whatever. But for real, yo, he was a complete _prick_ in school, if he didn’t like you. And he sure as shit didn’t like me.” He glanced at her again, scanning her face while simultaneously trying to watch the road. “Then there was that whole Gretchen and Elliot thing.”

 

“What?” Skyler was alarmed that he even knew their names. “What the hell do you know about them?”

 

“Well, aside from them awarding your son nine million dollars of Walt’s money, I know they were his old business partners, and that Walt felt they cut him out of a fortune. _Billions_ , he said. With a B.”

 

Skyler was stunned, realizing her mouth was hanging open before shutting it tightly. She hadn’t figured the kid was sharp enough to make the connection.

 

“You didn’t tell Marie, did you?” she asked, anxiety sweeping over her. “About the money?”

 

“What do you mean? Like, where it came from? I wasn’t even sure you knew.”

 

She frowned. “Oh, gee, thanks. So you have no qualms about dropping a bomb like that on me, but we’re supposed to tiptoe around you for every bit of information we can extract?”

 

“Yo, you ain’t exactly been tiptoeing, unless that’s like, your definition of kicking someone in the face.”

 

“Whatever, Jesse, my _point_ is, no one else has suspected that Flynn’s money is really from his father, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

 

“Oh, right. ‘Cause I’m in danger of running out and telling everybody.”

 

“ _No_ , of course not, but I’d appreciate you not saying anything to my _sister_. Can you handle that?”

 

“Uh, sure.” He checked the rear view mirror, as if he were tempted to tell her anyway. “But what’s the big deal? We’re talking about her nephew, right? What’s she gonna do about it, even if she found out?”

 

Skyler heaved a ponderous breath. “I really don’t know, but I’d rather not find out. I have no idea what my sister is capable of, from one moment to the next. She’s just full of surprises these days.”

 

“Well, she’s going through a tough time, give her a break, why don’t you? Why can’t you guys just help each other, you know? You keep arguing, like you’re after different things and can’t get on the same page, but it would seem that you should both want each other to feel, I don’t know, not really happy … _whole,_ maybe _?_ I mean, other than your kids, you’re the only family the two of you got, by the looks of it.”

 

Hearing it put so plainly cut through Skyler in a way she hadn’t expected and it was galling to have such an earful delivered by the very person causing the divide in the first place. Although, if Skyler were being honest, she knew that the strain in the relationship with Marie had nothing to do with Jesse at all, that their fights over him were merely an excuse to avoid the real matter. But Skyler wasn’t here to find honesty in herself, and she made the attempt to steer the conversation back to Pinkman.

 

“I’m supposed to take family advice from _you_? Really? Didn’t you just finish telling me how you had to ‘ _go your own way_ ’ around the time your mother was still buying you Spiderman Underoos?”

 

“Hey, I was just trying to help.”

 

“Well, I don’t need a lecture from you, okay? You want to help? Just answer my questions.”

 

“ _Fine_.” Jesse shifted with some force, creating a new whine in the gearbox. They saw an advancing car glide to the middle of the road before it jerked and stopped, the driver quickly maneuvering back into the right lane. Jesse slowed the truck as they passed the motorist, and once again, he checked behind him to make sure Marie was still close.

 

“So … what else did Walt tell you about the Schwartzes? About Gretchen, specifically. What did he tell you about her?”

 

“Um, I don’t know. Was she the hot one he was banging in grad school?”

 

“Yeah, that would be her.”

 

“Well, that’s all he told me.”

 

“Oh, and he said it like that? That he _banged_ her?”

 

Jesse shot her a sly glance. “What if he did? What, you don’t think Walt could be crude?”

 

“I find it odd that he was swapping sex stories with someone he considered a student. That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

 

Jesse chuckled in the back of his throat again, putting her on edge. “Oh no, that’s not our Walt. Dude ran over two drug dealers like it was nothing, but _talk about screwing with a former student?_ Never. Yeah, he was the same old Walt all the time.”

 

She huffed in exasperation. “Right, I got it. He had his dark side. So what other tawdry tales did my husband regale you with, then?”

  

“Hmmm.” He fingered his cigarette out of the truck’s ashtray and took another drag, his eyes scrunched either in thought or to keep the smoke out. “He told me about you, when you guys first hooked up.”

 

She gaped at him. “Told you what?”

 

“Oh, good stuff, Mrs. White. Said you were a wildcat in bed. Wow, the things you used to do … I was pretty impressed.” He flashed a grin. “Didn’t figure you were the type.”

 

“He did _not_ say that,” she said emphatically. “You’re lying.”

 

Jesse’s grin broadened, his rough laugh making the knot in her stomach tighten.

 

“Yeah, I’m just messing with ya.”

 

Skyler rewarded him with an expulsion of disgust from her lips then turned to glare through her window, puffing hard on her cigarette. Pinkman seemed to be three-for-zero so far, and it was pissing her off. She wanted the upper hand again, with him scared and nervous like the night before. He didn’t deserve the right to be the confident smartass seated next to her. A pair of cold blue eyes framed by a black balaclava suddenly appeared in her mind.

 

“Well, Walt told me some things about you, you know,” she started. “Some of it disturbing, some it kind of pathetic.” Skyler leaned her forehead against the cold glass and closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth from the sunshine as it emblazoned the outside of the truck.

 

“Like what?” He sounded tense. 

 

She could see Walt in their old living room, gloating about his new fancy watch and how the person who had given it to him—the person who had obviously been Pinkman—had pointed a gun to his head only the month before.

 

“He said you were soft. Weak, was the word he used. He told me he had you under …his .. thumb.  Most of the time, anyway, until you’d fly off the handle when something went wrong. Not good in a crisis, are you?”

 

“What the fuck would you know?”

 

That was definitely an angry response. Skyler smiled to the scenery outside.

 

“But he still seemed to miss you when you left,” she continued, ignoring his outburst. “The guy he hired to … replace you, I guess— I could tell he wasn’t very enthusiastic about him. Walt seemed bored when he would come home. He stopped wearing that stupid hat. The business just wasn’t exciting anymore, I suppose, without his little meth buddy by his side.”

 

It was silent on the other side of the cab. She waited for a few moments, biding her time as she smoked.

 

“Like, what did he say?  How’d you know I—I quit?” he asked.

 

She turned to look at him. “Well, he came home one day and said he was working with a new _guy_ , so I figured that meant the old guy was out.”

 

“Yeah, the _old guy_ was definitely _out_. But I was not the guy.”

 

Skyler crinkled her forehead. “I don’t know what that means, but you were definitely not working with him at that point; he made that pretty clear just in his body language. And I’m guessing it was Alquist who was your replacement?”

 

Jesse’s expression turned grave. He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe.”

 

“Oh, you don’t know?” she wised.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “I just don’t talk about him.”

 

“I see. Is that because you killed him?”

 

He didn’t respond at first, just stared at the road, his jaw clenching.

 

“I don’t like to talk about that dead-eyed fuck because it’s not a good idea,” he finally offered, his voice deep.

 

“And why’s that, Jesse? Why is he another off-limit topic? Is it because of Andrea?”

 

Just the mention of her name made Jesse’s face darken and grip the wheel tighter. “Because he just is,” he told her in a low threat.

 

She debated whether to continue antagonizing him, or if it would be more fruitful to try another approach. He was getting too intense for the mood in the cab. They still had another five miles to the center of town. Skyler recalled Alquist’s mug shot, how those eyes instantly took her back to that night in Holly’s room.

 

“He came to my house, you know.” She pulled her coat closer, feeling a chill crawl over her skin. “There were three of them, but he was the one who spoke, I’m sure of it.” Skyler eyed Jesse suspiciously. “Did you send him there, too? Like you sent them to Marie’s house?”

 

Pinkman looked like he might be ill, eyes wide and his knuckles pinched white as his hands curled around the wheel hard enough to break it. “They were there? For what?”

 

“To threaten me. I found them in the baby’s room. With cops sitting right across the street, no less. God, they were just …they scared me pretty badly. Their faces were covered, so I could only see their eyes. It was … they were awful, standing around Holly’s crib like some kind of … I don’t know what. And it was because Alquist wanted me to keep quiet about Lydia’s involvement. I didn’t even know her name until then, I’d only seen her once before at the car wash, but here they were asking me to not say a word about Lydia Rodarte-Quayle, as if it were of the utmost importance that she be protected. And he was so … _cordial_ about the whole damn thing. Calling me _ma’am_ ,” she shuddered. “Then the next second threatening to hurt my children like it was nothing personal, just business, just shutting off the electricity, ma'am, because you didn’t pay your bill.”

 

Skyler pressed the flat of her hands to her face, covering her eyes in the hope that the sick tableaux they had created would disappear from her memory. She had been happy enough to leave that house once the feds had seized it. She heard the flick of the radio being turned on, a singer’s reedy voice instantly filling the cab.

 

_“But this is beginning to feel like the dog's lost her lead …”_   


 

“Still,” she resumed, “Once I was assured he was dead, I was able to confirm Quayle—”

 

Jesse turned up the radio loud enough to drown her out.

 

_“La la laaa la lalala, la la la la lalala …”_

“Jesse? That’s a little too loud,” she shouted over the music.

 

He cranked the volume up until it rattled the windows.

 

_“This is beginning to feel like the long_   
_winded blues of the never_   
_This is beginning to feel like it's curling up slowly_   
_and finding a throat to choke …_   
  
_This is beginning to feel like the long_   
_winded blues of the never_   
_Barely controlled locomotive consuming the picture_   
_and blowing the crows, the smoke_   
  
_This is beginning to feel like the long_   
_winded blues of the never_   
_Static explosion devoted to crushing the broken_   
_and shoving their souls to ghost_   
  
_Eternalized. Objectified._   
_You set your sights so high._   
_But this is beginning to feel like_   
_the bolt busted loose from the lever_

Skyler reached over and turned the knob in the other direction, the voice sinking back to a whisper. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you being so obnoxious?”

 

He flipped the volume back again and let the song blare through the speakers until it was loud enough to distort the treble in the truck’s ancient stereo.

  
  
_“Your victim flies so high_   
_All to catch a bird's eye view of who's next_   
  
_Never you mind_   
_Death professor_   
_Love is life_   
_My love is better_   
_Eyes could be the diamonds_   
_Confused with who's next …_

She crossed her arms at his childishness, flummoxed by his unwillingness to give her anything that could help her to understand Walt, understand why it had all happened. He was this key that refused to unlock his secrets, held all the answers to everything that plagued her at nights.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, can you give it a rest?!”

 

He started to sing along, his voice booming over hers.

  
  
_“Never you mind_   
_Death professor!_   
_Your shocks are fine_   
_My struts are better_   
_Your fiction flies so high_   
_Y'all could use a doctor_   
_Who's sick, who's next?_   
  
_Never you mind_   
_Death professor_   
_Electrified, my love is better_   
_It's crystallized, so'm I…._   


She threw up her hands, giving up, and let him scream his heart out to the words. Jesse began banging on the dashboard with his free hand, slapping it in time with the beat.

 

_“This is beginning to feel like the dawn of a loser forever! This is beginning to feel like the dawn of a loser forever! This is beginning to feel like the dawn of a loser forever! This is beginning to feel like the dawn of a loser forever!”_

                As soon as the dj started speaking to announce the song that had played, Jesse finally turned it down to a tolerable level. She glared at him, waiting for an apology, but he only stared ahead blankly, acknowledging nothing.

 

                “Really? What are you, like five? Was that really necessary?”

 

                He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes bulging, the car suddenly slowing and easing off the road. She gawked at their remote surroundings feeling startled, wondering what he might to do them out here.

 

 “Yeah, it was,” he said forcefully once the car was stopped. He turned to her with desperation etched into his features. “It really, really was. Now, you wanna talk about something that isn’t gonna give me panic attacks, or do I have to kick you to the curb and make you drive with your sister?”

 

                She noticed how pale he was under all the scruff, how the scar on his cheek and the one curved around his eye looked angry and alive, like worms eating him from the inside trying to break free through his flesh. When he removed a new cigarette from its packet, Skyler could see his hands were shaking hard. Mission accomplished.  She had definitely brought him back to a state of scared and unsettled, but it no longer felt like much of a victory.

 

                “I’m sorry,” she told him, meaning it this time. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

                “Well, too late for that now.”

 

                Jesse put the car back into first gear and moved them back to the road, watching in his side view mirror for Marie to follow. They drove the rest of the way in silence, each of them lost to their thoughts.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skyler takes another shot, and shit gets real, real quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early today for scotjane.
> 
> This is another unbeta'd chapter, but the author would like to thank falafelfiction for her notes and for getting the author thinking about a whole slew of things for upcoming plot and characterization. The dialog she encourages is always insightful.

##  _Chapter 5_

 

 

         Once they arrived into town, Skyler felt a modicum of relief. The cluster of buildings and traffic afforded her a safety zone, where things could pretend to be normal, at least. She was eager for her sister’s chattiness to break up the funereal atmosphere that had descended in the space between Skyler and her taciturn driver, and she watched Marie maneuver the car into a right lane behind them with a sense of anticipation. The remainder of the trip had been so tense her arms were aching in reaction, still crossed across her midsection like laces in a corset. Jesse’s trembling had mostly subsided, but he continued to have that blown out look of someone moments after a car wreck. His appearance kept Skyler’s words tucked in her throat, unable to roll off her tongue and ask him the thousand questions she still had zooming around her head. If she said just one wrong thing, she imagined he would shatter into pieces right next to her. But her discomfort was overshadowed by her culpability, a creeping trickle of guilt leaving her confused and awkward.

She could see her hotel poking up behind the local bank a few blocks down, probably the tallest building in this sleepy burg, and definitely the only chain. Skyler scanned the storefronts for one reading ‘Liquor’, feeling cross with herself the next second as a vision of Marie wagging a finger popped into her head. But Marie would never understand how it was _necessary_ , how the alcohol was the only thing keeping her from jumping into the pit, giving her the courage to face the day because otherwise she’d just hide under the bed. And it would certainly go a long way in helping her deal with the ticking time bomb seated next to her. She wondered what time the bars opened.

 

Skyler finally ventured to speak. “That’s our hotel up there.”

 

“Yeah … I kinda figured that. On account of it being the only place in this town that’s actually a hotel, and all.”

 

At least his voice didn’t sound so tremulous anymore. She welcomed the dry sarcasm, seeing it as a good sign that he’d reverted back to his usual state. He turned left at the stop sign, away from where she’d been pointing. There was plenty of traffic, regardless of the snow, which she imagined was par for the course around these parts. Snow didn’t halt everything the way it did in New Mexico; people went about their day as usual. There was a hardware store up ahead and Jesse made his way to the end of the street, in search of a parking spot. She noticed he passed the first one they saw and was about to point it out, but then he drove down a little farther where there were two empty spots next to each other. He pulled in and waited for Marie to pull alongside them before shutting off the engine.

 

“So, you want to get in your car and you two head to your hotel, and I’ll be there in like, half an hour. I got to do something first before I come by. Just park somewhere out of the way and I’ll find your car and put the chains on as soon as I’m done.”

 

She reached in her purse. “Well, wait, let me give you some money—”

 

“Just go, okay. Before it gets any busier around here.”

 

“Alright, but we might need to do some shopping first,” she said as she eyed the restaurant next to the hardware place. There were several people going in and out and she knew they were making Jesse twitchy. “We’re on the fourth floor, but we can meet you downstairs in the car at, say, eleven o’clock?”

 

“Can’t you go shopping after? And you don’t need to hang around while I put chains on your tires. Just stay in your room. Or walk to the store, do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just not around me.”

 

She could see Marie getting Holly from her car seat out of the corner of her eye, and was about to protest to Jesse when there was a loud rapping on his driver’s side window. Both of them jumped in their seats then gaped in the direction of the knock. A man with sandy hair and glasses stood there smiling. Behind him stood what appeared to be the sheriff, and Skyler braced herself for catastrophe.

 

Jesse rolled down his window, a strained smile on his face. “Hey, Doc. How’s it going?” He nodded to the man in the police uniform. “Sherriff Truman, good to see you. You gentlemen having a late breakfast?”

 

“Hey, Jake, I thought that was you pulling up,” said the man Jesse referred to as the doctor. He looked in her direction, his smile broadening almost comically. “Who’s your friend?”

 

Jesse looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, his expression frozen in place. _Shit_ , she thought, _you’ve got to be kidding me._ She ducked her head and extended a hand to the man.

 

“Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Hannah. Hannah Lambert.” She shook his hand and nodded to the sheriff as Jesse had done. “And we’re not really friends, we just met. Jake was kind enough to drag me and my sister out of an embankment earlier. We took a turn a little too fast for the snow, I guess.”

 

Jesse stirred from his panic. “Uh, yeah, saw it happen, too. Was…” he looked at her, his head bobbing, as if she would corroborate, “was pretty scary, I bet. We’re just gonna get them some chains, so they can ... uh, you know … get around for the day.”

 

Suddenly, Marie was on the other side of them, standing next to the doctor. She had Holly balancing on her hip, but held out a hand.

 

“Hi there, how are you? I’m Sherrie Turnblatt, Hannah’s sister. And you are?”

 

The sandy haired man laid a hand to his chest.  “Stephen Lacey, and this here’s Sheriff Harry Truman. Hope you folks are alright.”

 

“We’re so lucky Jake was close by,” Marie said. “Otherwise, we’d probably still be sitting there.”

 

The sheriff shook Marie’s hand and then pointed to the hood of the BMW. “You’re lucky, alright, not a scratch on there.”

 

“Well, it was just a pile of snow,” Skyler added in a hurry.

 

“You ladies in town for the festival parade of lights next week?” the doctor asked, looking from one to the other suspiciously.

 

“Oh, no, we’re actually here on some research?” Marie continued. Skyler cringed inside, wishing her sister had just let her answer. She was definitely the better liar. “My sister is a photographer and she’s been helping me document the avian cholera that’s been affecting the seabirds up the coast.”

 

“Ah, you’re an ornithologist, eh? We get a lot of them up here.”

 

Sheriff Truman eyed Marie up and down. “Not really outfitted for that, I gotta tell ya. High heels don’t do so good in the sand. Or snow.”

 

Marie laughed. It went on just a little too long for Skyler. “Oh, we’re not working today. And I’m actually a journalist doing a story. We were heading out, frankly, but I guess we didn’t take into account that we’d hit snow so soon.”

 

“Aye, it seems to get here earlier every year,” the doctor said in good humor. He looked over Jesse, with what appeared to be some fondness. “Our Jake playing the Good Samaritan, once again, I see. We’re thankful that he gave up the hippies in LA and gave the wilderness a try.”  

 

Jesse tucked his head almost bashfully, staring at the wheel. Skyler thought she could detect his skin flushed pink in the flattening sunlight.  “Yeah, it wasn’t no big deal.”

 

The sheriff was still watching Marie closely. “So, a journalist and a photographer, huh? What’s this one do? She your editor?” he joked, pointing to Holly. Marie laughed again, but it didn’t sound very funny to Skyler, and she worried that the he didn’t find their story believable. As if he’d heard her, the sheriff shifted his focus to Skyler and tipped his hat. “Well, ladies, I’d say you’re in good hands with this guy, but if there’s anything you need, or you have any more problems on the road, just call the sheriff’s department and I’ll come out there myself.” He nodded to the rest of them, the doctor included. “See you, Doc. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” He walked off to the police car that Skyler hadn’t noticed at the corner.

 

The doctor tapped at Jesse’s shoulder, his arms resting on the lowered window. “Hey, don’t forget your appointment this week. Wednesday at twelve, like we said. Tell your boss I said to give you an extra hour for lunch.” Jesse’s demeanor turned nervous, his eyes watery and wide-open, but shook his head in agreement. The doctor smiled at Skyler again, still seemingly unsure of her. “Well, I have somewhere I need to be, but it was nice to meet you. Have a lovely visit while you’re here.”

 

She thanked him and watched as his gaze swept over Jesse once more, with a touch of something she couldn’t quite identify. There was a sadness that hung in his eyes, before he turned to Marie and shook her hand, tickling at Holly’s knee. Holly simply burrowed her face shyly into Marie’s neck. The doctor laughed and waved a hand at them then turned to set off towards the red Neon a few spots over. They waited until the car roared to life and drove away before both sisters turned to stare at Jesse, his hands on his face.

 

“Holy crap,” he muttered from between them.

 

Skyler looked up at Marie. “ _Avian cholera_? Seriously?”

 

“What? I was just reading about it last week.”

 

Holly motioned at the window with both hands. “ _Jessjake_ ,” she called.  “Mmmoo-rrrm, _Jessjake.”_

Jesse waved to the door. “You want to get going then? Let’s not push it.”

 

“Aren’t we going into—” Marie pointed to the hardware store.

 

“Not together! Jesus,” he swore. “I’m going in there _by myself._ I told your sister, I’ll take care of things at your hotel. You guys go do whatever; when you go to your car, it’ll be ready for you.”

 

“And then what?” Marie asked. “When do we see you next?”

 

Jesse gave an exaggerated shrug, his eyes practically popping out of his head. “What? What are you talking about?”

 

Skyler touched Jesse’s shoulder. “Calm down. You’re only drawing attention to yourself.”

 

He deflated a bit, his head falling to his chest, but Marie was still hammering him through the open window.

 

“I mean it, Jesse. This can’t be our goodbyes, here in a parking lot. Let me give you our room number and you can meet us up there. We –we’ll do something fun.”

 

Jesse looked up at her as if she’d gone mad. Skyler was as much at a loss for words, though, trying to decide if her sister had really lost it this time. She understood the frustration –as much as she hated to admit it, she wasn’t quite ready to be done with Pinkman, either. There was still so much to ask. She opened the door to get out of the truck, hoping she could come up with something that would appease them both.

 

“If I say yes, will you please go away so I can do this without everybody in town staring at us?” he begged Marie, giving Skyler more time to come up with a plan.

 

“Yes, we will walk away if you promise to come up to Room 420 in—oh, what time is it, Skyler?”

 

“It’s ten fifteen,” she told her, checking her phone. “I said we’d be there by eleven.” She put a hand to the top of the passenger door and stooped to talk to Jesse through the window. “I’ll park the car in the back, all the way to the far south end. There’s an exit door that leads out that way.”

 

“Fine,” he said. Jesse looked to Marie. “Don’t give me that face. I’ll be there, alright?” He reached out and grabbed a few of Holly’s fingers in a miniature handshake and Skyler could see her daughter beaming at him. Marie walked around the front of the truck and brought Holly back to the passenger side of the car. Skyler had already climbed into the driver seat and waited for Holly to be buckled into her carseat before she started the engine. Marie leaned forward as soon as she got in, waving to Jesse as he sauntered from his truck towards the entrance of the store, studiously ignoring them the whole way. Skyler shook her head at her sister with reproach.

 

“Discreet, huh?”

 

“Oh, just shut up and drive.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

 

         When Skyler pulled up to the roundabout in front of their modest hotel, it was eight minutes to eleven. Holly had been getting increasingly cranky while they shopped for some extra toiletries at the drug store. As much as Skyler wanted to get to her room and hit the minibar, she had an odd sense of apprehension that she couldn’t seem to shake. That niggling feeling tickling her neck demanded she have the car where she told Jesse it would be a few minutes before he was due to arrive. She’d be waiting for him, to make absolutely sure he didn’t take off. He had promised Marie that he would come up, but there was still a worry that Pinkman wouldn’t stay true to his word. She wasn’t sure why it mattered to her, but it did, and she knew it would distress Marie if they didn’t get to spend more time with him. Skyler still needed to protect her sister, even if it was from her own high hopes.

 

She sent Marie up with the baby, and told her she’d follow shortly, but she had something in the trunk that needed attention before Pinkman arrived. It was coming up for noon and she hadn’t had a shower, hadn’t changed her clothes, and her skin felt like ants were crawling all over her. She needed a moment. Driving the car to the back, she spotted the exit and made her way to the farthest patch of the parking lot. There weren’t very many cars around, maybe half a dozen in the vicinity, and all clustered together like pigs at a trough. Only half the lot had been plowed, the sides still packed with snow. Autumn didn’t bring a lot of tourists, she suspected, and the canners all came during the summer.

 

Skyler shut off the car and then popped the trunk. When she strolled behind the car, she scanned the lot before reaching in and pulling out the brown paper bag. As soon as she was back behind the wheel, she slid one bottle under the seat, propping the other in the cup holder behind the gearstick. It didn’t fit, and tipped on its side, but Skyler wasn’t planning on keeping it around, quickly grabbing it by the neck and wrenching off the screw cap. It was a cheap Chardonnay and it was warm, but her options had been limited, as was the window of opportunity to pay for it and get the bag in the car before Marie was finished browsing the shampoo aisle. She put her lips to the throat of the bottle and tipped it back, closing her eyes as she gulped. It might as well have been grape juice for all its heat, and when she righted it, the wine was already below the shoulder, but at least the dull ache behind her eyes had abated.

 

She let out a breath as if she’d just come up for air, and leaned against the plush headrest. The sun felt good heating her through the windshield, the bitter cold outside starting to seem like a dream. Skyler took another swig of the wine, and then lifted up her phone off the passenger seat to glance at the time. 10:59. Unsnapping the top of her purse, she stuck her hand to the bottom to root around for the extra plastic bottle she kept for Holly. She opened the top and sniffed inside. It had the sickly sour smell of old milk, but at least it was clean. Skyler took a few more swallows before lining up the mouths of the bottles together, careful not to spill any over the sides as she transferred the wine to the plastic container. She screwed the top on tightly then tucked it upright down into the corner of her purse. Her hand caressed the gun still sitting serenely at the bottom.

 

Skyler scouted the parking lot again before opening the door. There was a big green garbage bin at the end of the pavement, up against the fence, and she walk-ran the short distance to dispose of the glass. No recycling for her. It was on her way back to the car that she saw Jesse’s truck slowly curving the corner of the building, the engine stridently heralding his arrival. She was ready for him this time, feeling a little more even keeled. He passed the group of parked cars, a collection of dour greys and one brightly red, and slowed as he got closer to the BMW. Jesse didn’t stop, however, but turned to his right and went down a few spaces, parking in the middle of an empty row with the front of his truck in the other direction. As if that would fool anyone. He got out of the cab with a box tucked under his arm, shoving his keys in his coat as he walked towards her, his expression sour.

 

“I told you I didn’t need you here,” he chastised the second he got close enough. “I’ll come up when I’m done.”

 

“Look, I just needed a break from my sister, okay? I figured I can sit in the car and look straight ahead, I won’t even acknowledge your existence. But at least I’m around if you need anything.”

 

He rolled his eyes to the sky, his jerky body movements conveying the burden of humoring her. “Jesus, man, you two are, like, ridiculous. You’re not going to listen to one fucking thing I tell you, are you?”

 

“Probably not,” Skyler responded, but her tone was light.

 

Jesse wasn’t amused, however, and dropped the box on the ground next to the back tire with some finality.

 

“Well, if I can’t get rid of you then you can at least help,” he said pointing to the driver’s side. “Get in and back up the car when I tell you.”

 

The next ten minutes went by with Skyler following Jesse’s lead as he asked her to roll back or move forward while he hooked the chains over her back tires. While he kneeled on the asphalt, she watched him work in her side view mirror, smoking languorously as the heater kept her warm. When he was done, she tapped on the window and held up her cigarette, inviting him to join her. He concentrated on her face for a few moments, and Skyler wondered what he was hoping to see, but he eventually walked to the other side of the car and slid in beside her. She held out a pack and offered him a cigarette the way he had earlier. He took one and thanked her, and when she lit it for him, Skyler appreciated the way his head bent to the flame, almost in deference.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to put chains on the front of the car?” she asked as a way to make conversation. She decided it was best to leave Walt out of this little interlude.

 

“Got rear-wheel drive on this model. You need them on the ones doing most of the work.”

 

She thought about the chains they found at the massacre on the compound again and gave him a tight smile.

 

“I see. I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about cars, too.”

 

“I know shit about cars, but you have to learn how to get around in the snow if you’re gonna live here.”

 

“Do you ever miss New Mexico?” she asked, the question seeming to pop out of her mouth before she even thought it.

 

“Not even a little bit.”

 

“I suppose that’s not exactly surprising.”

 

Jesse watched the sky through her windshield. “I’ll never set foot in that state again. Not willingly, anyway.”

 

She took a drag, watching the clouds herding together along with him. “Do you really think they’ll never find you? That they’re not even looking?”

 

“Not much I can do about it if they are. I’m kind of at the end of the line, here.”

 

She looked at the side of his face as he blew smoke at the glass, finding him more curious the more that he spoke. There was a resignation to him that she hadn’t expected to encounter; indeed, she had been prepared to find a punk who would stop at nothing to remain out of jail. Skyler could see that she’d been duping herself into believing that her idea of Pinkman was even still around: the silly kid she’d warned in a driveway so long ago was miles from the haunted survivor they’d found. The man in front of her was a lot more complex than she’d deigned to imagine.

 

“Paling around with the local law enforcement can’t be too wise,” she said. “Don’t you worry he might recognize you one day? A little muscle and a lot of beard doesn’t exactly make you Clark Kent.”

 

“Well, someone once told me that it’s better to hide in plain sight,” he reasoned. “I didn’t go looking to introduce myself or nothing, but the Doc,” he exhaled lazily, “the Doc and Truman are pretty tight. It freaked me out when the guy started asking me questions, but … it’s been alright, so far. I don’t know _why_ , but people … people kinda like me around here. Like, they trust me or something.” He turned to her. “It’s weird. I’m not really used to that.”

 

“What are you seeing the doctor for?” she asked, recalling the appointment.

 

He arched an eyebrow. “Uh, none of your business,” he told her caustically.

 

“Sorry. I was being nosy, wasn’t I? But I’ve been stuck in a car with _Marie_ for the last week, remember?”

 

“That’s kind of mean.”

 

Skyler shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m not a nice person.”

 

Jesse nodded in understanding. “I noticed.” He frowned. “I’m not a good person, either, but … I want to be.”

 

“I think you can be a fundamentally good person without having to necessarily be _nice_ ,” she argued in her defense. “In the same way that you can be nice to people, and yet not be a _good person,_ at all. I lived with the perfect example of the latter.”

 

“Okay,” he replied, “but are you saying you still think of _yourself_ as a good person?” He was watching her intently. “I mean … you weren’t exactly _innocent_ of everything, were you? Even if they were saying Walt forced you to help him on the news, we both know that’s not really true.”

 

She turned away from him and stared out of her window, not sure if she should be angered by the question or if she could even offer him an authentic response. A souped up Firebird sped through the lot and fishtailed dangerously as it exited to the back road and she wished she were in that other vehicle instead, wished she was seventeen again and peeling out of the driveway with her latest bad boy behind the wheel, infuriating her dad and upsetting her mother, knowing full well that she’d be legs up in the rear of the car before the night was over. She hadn’t cared if she was a good person back then.

 

“I don’t know, Jesse. I try not to think about it too much.” She reached under her seat and pulled free the second bottle of wine. He studied her, his face registering his concern. She cracked the top open and held the bottle aloft. “To your journey towards becoming a model citizen,” she toasted, before taking a swig.

 

Jesse narrowed his eyes. “It’s not even noon … Skyler.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s been a rough couple of days.” She offered him the wine. “Have a drink with me, Mr. Hennings.”

 

He glanced at the bottle and then back at her. “I think I had enough last night.”

 

“Oh, but that was _hours_ ago,” she protested, taking another deep swallow. She wiped her hand around the rim and tried again. “Here, I cleaned off the germs. I did manage to brush my teeth this morning, even if I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

 

He eyed the wine once more, but this time he accepted it from her, taking several long gulps. When he handed the bottle back, Skyler took hold of the neck, but the glass remained in his grip and he held her gaze.

 

“I’m guessing the rough days are more than a couple, huh?”

 

She huffed. “I’m sure you know all about them, Jesse. But seeing as you’re _clean_ , if not exactly sober, do tell me how you manage to—”

 

A buzz from her purse interrupted her and Skyler scanned the face of her phone to read the message there. “Marie is getting pissy. She wants to know where we are.” Skyler took one more sip before capping the bottle tightly, sliding it under the seat so that the base was lodged to the floor. “I’d better get you up there.” She was looking into the rearview mirror to straighten her hair when she saw him coming out of the exit. It was the same man—sandy hair and glasses—that Jesse had spoken to not an hour before, and he was standing on the walkway that stood ten feet from them, adjusting his coat. Her mouth dropped open, knowing that there wasn’t any way Marie’s pathetic lie would hold water if he saw them. The doctor had looked at her so strangely before, what if he had recognized her? The next second, she was gawking at Jesse, realizing suddenly just how much danger they’d put him in by being here.

 

“Why are you looking like tha—oh, shiiii—”

 

Jesse never finished, though. With a rush of adrenaline, Skyler grabbed the back of his neck and wrenched Jesse’s head toward her, pinning her mouth on his as she twisted them both, angling her back to the window in the hopes that she could completely shield him from view of the doctor. It occurred to her—while she was kissing the completely unresponsive lips pressed to her own—that the doctor would recognize Jesse’s truck, but there was still the hope that he wouldn’t look in that direction, would simply keep walking and never look up. Her mind raced over her options even as it was becoming clear that the body underneath her had gone stiff, and not in the usual way.

 

“Could you try and work with me here,” she mumbled against him, trying to insert her tongue into his slack mouth, but when she snaked a hand down between them to grab hold of his hip to steady herself, he reacted immediately in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Jesse bucked and thrashed wildly, jostling her badly enough that she had to grab both headrests to keep from being slammed backwards. His hand was pressed to her shoulder, pushing her off of him as she struggled to keep their cover and Jesse’s possible anonymity intact. When he bit her lip, she reared back in shock.

 

“Jesus! I’m trying to help!” she cried, her hand to her bleeding mouth. But Jesse wasn’t even looking at her, his neck stretched taut as he faced as far away from her as he could. His hand slapped at the window and door blindly, trying to find the latch, the panicked noises he was making getting louder with every hit.

 

Skyler fell back in her seat, still clutching at her chin, mouth agape and not knowing what to do. She shot a look out of the windshield only to see that the doctor was still there, staring at them dejectedly before slouching off down the pavement at a brisk pace. She watched him head to the pack of cars until the sound of her car door opening made her snap her head back to the seat. Jesse was practically throwing himself out of the car, landing on one knee as his body banged against the door’s edge. She watched in horror as he fell to all fours and proceeded to throw up on the asphalt.

 

“Oh my God! Jesse!” Skyler was trying to open her own door now, scraping at the lever unsuccessfully the first few times before she was able to pull it up and press with all her might. As she ran towards the front of her car, she could see the red Neon zooming off towards the front of the hotel, out of view. She wished he had stayed, as he might have been able to tend to his patient, but while she staggered around the hood to the other side, she could see Jesse crawling away, still on his hands and knees, and still heaving his body forward as another round of vomiting spewed forth. It sprayed outward from his mouth and landed on a patch of snow, leaving drill-size holes across the top as it instantly melted through.

 

She caught up with him, and leaned down on shaky heels, trying to grab hold of his shoulders to keep him from moving. He reared back from her, a hand outstretched as protection, and she was stopped cold by the sheer terror on his face.

 

“Stop! Okay, stop!” he groaned as he scrabbled backwards, not even able to look at her, but staring at her knees with eyes wild. “I’ll do what you want,” he said with a hitch, before breaking down into tears. “I’ll do what you want,” he repeated, his voice hoarse.

 

Skyler stood up and scoured the area around her, feeling numb but desperate for some assistance, wondering if she should call Marie. She ran to the car, the dinging from the open door sounding like a warning of impending doom, and reached across the seat to her purse. She grabbed the phone, only to drop it back in, re-thinking the idea. She didn’t need Marie freaking out, too, and she wouldn’t want Holly alone up in the room, or, God forbid, here with this madness. When she turned back to Jesse he’d gone still on the ground, except for the involuntary shaking and twitching. She couldn’t tell if that was from the cold, or from shock. His face was white, but those eyes, while still wide, had gone blank, unseeing. She walked cautiously to him this time, determined not to provoke another fit.

 

“Jesse?” She said his name softly, waiting for his reaction. He sat there, in the snow and gravel, and continued to stare ahead at nothing as if he hadn’t heard her. She crouched low when she got close enough and gently pressed at his shoulder with just the pads of two fingers. “Jesse, can you hear me?”

 

He blinked, but that was the only indicator that he was aware of her. Taking a deep breath, she cupped his shoulder with the palm of her hand, squeezing faintly for reassurance. “Jesse? I’m going to help you get up to my room, okay? It’s too cold here, and your body ... you need to get warm. We need to get you inside.”

 

Skyler wasn’t going to be able to lift him, so she needed him to cooperate. She tentatively put another hand to his other shoulder, just letting it rest there for a moment to make sure he was okay with it. His teeth were chattering now, but he didn’t jolt or act out, just sucked in his breath.

 

“Good, Jesse. That’s good. I’m going to lift you from under your arms, but I need you to push yourself up at the same time. Can you do that?” He didn’t answer, but he didn’t protest, either, so she slid her hands under his armpits and started to pull upward, hoping he would get the hint and pick himself up. It seemed to stir him from his catatonia, but then he started to pull away from her.

 

“Nonononono,” he slurred, sounding as frightened as a child while trying to get back on his knees, his hands clawing in front of him. “Please. I’ll be good.” The pitiful begging in his voice left a tight fist in her stomach, her distress increasing as he dropped to the ground.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, please,” she implored. He was curling up into a ball and she had to stop him or she’d never get him inside. “Wait, not here. We can’t do this here, Je—” A thought loomed, his distaste for his name seeming to have some significance finally. “Jake. Jake, I need you to help me.”

 

Jesse looked right at her with surprise, and she could see in his face that he recognized her, or recognized, at least, that she wasn’t a threat, wasn’t there to harm him.

 

“Jake, I want to get you safe, but I need your help. I need you to stand up, and then I can take you to a warm place … where no one will hurt you. Do you understand me?”

 

Long minutes seemed to go by before he nodded a few times and sat up, and Skyler smiled with relief. Now they were getting somewhere. She held out her hand to him, letting him make the decision to take it or not, and he scanned it the way a dog might sniff at a stranger. When he took hold of it, she emitted a pleased sound, and walked back a few steps hoping he would follow through with the momentum.

 

“That’s it, Jake. You’re doing great. Just follow me, and I’ll get you to a safe place.” She planted her feet on unsteady boot heels as best she could, then gave one final tug as Jesse sprang up on rubbery legs. She quickly hooked an arm around his waist before he could fall, but he didn’t freak out, simply leaned heavily against her. “Yes, just like that. Just hold on to me. So good, Jake, we’re almost inside.”

 

On wobbly steps, they weaved across the parking lot until they stood outside the door. Skyler reached for the handle to open it, but it didn’t budge. She started to shake it in her frenzy but the handle stayed unmoving until she noticed the slit above it. A key. She needed her hotel key and her purse and they were both still in the car. Skyler gazed at the BMW with longing, it felt miles away. She looked to her clinging companion and considered her options.

 

“Jake? I need you to sit here for one moment, okay? Just sit here and I’ll be right back.” He seemed confused, his eyes lost, but when she made to move away from him he suddenly clasped her tighter. “No, it’s okay, Jake. I promise. I just need to get something, and then we’ll go in.” She kept her tone as soothing and docile as she could manage under the circumstances, but Jesse eventually followed her direction and plopped himself to the ground. Skyler sprinted to the car and reached in frantically for her purse, hoping the _blip_ of her car alarm engaging wouldn’t set him off as she walked back to where he sat. He was still shaking violently when she got to him, and she worried that he really was in some sort of shock. They managed to get Jesse standing again, and she slid the card in the slot, hearing the familiar buzz that signaled she could open the door.

 

The quiet buffeted them on all sides as soon as they were inside, the heat and the soft carpet beneath them creating an inviting portal. The space in the dimly lit hallway was so calmly removed from the scene that had just occurred outside it was like entering the eye of a hurricane. She wondered if they could make it to the fourth floor undisturbed, or more importantly, that Jesse would make it without any more episodes.

 

“See? No one here. We’re just going to walk to the elevator,” she said, letting his weight rest against her. He blinked a few times and took in his surroundings, still seeming disoriented. Skyler started walking forward, and Jesse kept in step with her. “Perfect, just perfect. You’re going to walk with me, and we’ll get upstairs, and I’ll open a few tiny bottles of Smirnoff out of the minibar, and Marie can just deal with it.” She kept up a running dialogue as they walked, her heart leaping when she saw the elevator sign with an arrow pointing right. “So close, Jake, it’s just around the corner. And we’re doing great, keep walking, and, oh …”

 

A young man in a navy peacoat, similar to the one Jesse wore, was ambling towards them as they turned into the next hallway, his hands stuffed in his pockets. She stopped them in their tracks, worried what Jesse might do, but he stayed by her side, his breathing heavy and ragged as if he’d been running for the last ten minutes. The man tipped his head in greeting, but otherwise kept moving, turning in the direction they had just come from. Skyler glanced behind her, satisfied that he was leaving through the exit and wasn’t going to do anything to perturb the one now clinging to her.

 

“Okay, well that was totally uneventful. Good job, Jes-Jake. We’re just a few steps away, and then we’ve got one more hallway to get through.” She maneuvered him to the side of the elevator so she could push the button to take them up. The silver doors slid back instantly, already waiting for them. “Look at that, Jake, our luck is finally changing. Fourth floor here we come.”

 

The ride up was smooth, with no interruption, and Skyler prayed that their luck continued. If Marie could manage to help her get Jesse back to normal without going into a meltdown, it would be a blessing. Her nerves were frayed enough already and they wouldn’t be able to handle two basket cases. She looked at her silent companion and noticed some color had come back into his complexion. Another good sign. When the ding announced their floor, she took a deep breath, preparing herself.

 

As they walked down the last hallway, still at a lagging pace, she could feel the buzz from her phone inside of her purse, expecting that Marie would be apoplectic by now. She saw their doors up ahead, side by side, and flirted with the idea of taking him to her room and not saying anything to Marie about the episode at all. But could she leave him alone in a strange room if he was still in a daze? What if he became violent? She knew her sister traveled with a mini medicine cabinet, at least, that included some sleeping pills and a few for anti-anxiety. She didn’t think it prudent to let Jesse out of her sight until he was his obnoxious, bratty self again. So Skyler led Jesse up to her sister’s door, his arm slung around her shoulder while she grasped it at his wrist, and rapped insistently until it opened.

 

“What the _hell_ , Skyler—oh my god, what happened?”

 

“Move out of the way,” she demanded, dragging Jesse in without waiting for her sister to step aside. Her daughter sat in the middle of the bed, watching television, but she threw up a hand when she saw her.

 

“Mommy! Emo, mommy!” She pointed to the tv set, to the familiar red puppet on-screen.

 

Skyler glanced at the chair in the corner, but it was filled with Marie’s luggage, so she edged him up to the bed, turning sideways so she could sit him down. It made her nervous having Holly so close when she wasn’t sure if Jesse was coming out of it or not. He could still have a negative reaction. She snapped her fingers to her sister.

 

“Water. We need some water, and some Xanax, if you got it.”

 

“Are you going to tell me what happened or what? Did someone attack you two? Why are you bleeding?”

 

“Marie, I’ll explain in a minute, just get me the water.” She kneeled in front of Jesse, trying to get his attention. “Jesse? Do you know who I am?” His head lolled forward and she caught him by the shoulders, holding him up. “Jesse? Look at me, can you tell me my name?”

 

Something in the way she spoke elicited a response, and his eyes met with hers, going saucer-big again but the pupils no longer dilated.

 

“My name?” he asked in a creaky voice.

 

“No, Jesse. Can you tell me who I am? Do you recognize me?” Marie was by her side at this point, a glass of water gripped in both hands.

 

“Why’s he like that? What did you to him?”

 

Skyler closed her eyes, willing away her irritation. She opened them to gaze back on Jesse’s face, still appearing shell-shocked. “Jesse? Say my name.”

 

That seemed to awaken some sentience in him. He looked pained. “Mrs ….  White?”  He glanced around the room, his despondency acute.

 

“Good, Jesse. That’s very good. You’re in our hotel room. I – you’re safe here.”

 

“Skyler, would please tell me what’s going on?”

 

She held up her hand. “ _Marie._ Give it a rest.” Skyler took the water from her sister and held it out to Jesse. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

 

He stared at it as if it were a foreign object, something fearful and suspect. But instead of taking the water, his face crumpled, hands flying up to cover it. They could hear his shuddered breathing as he began to cry silently, his shoulders soon racked with his sobs. Skyler stood up quickly, not knowing how to comfort him. Her guilt came back in spades, feeling solely responsible for his condition.

 

“Jesse, honey. What is it?” Marie sat next to him, quick to put an arm around him, but he shrank away from her grasp, turning his head from them as if he were ashamed.

 

“Jessjake?” Holly was suddenly on the other side of him, standing on the bed with her plump, little hands on his shoulder. Skyler tensed, unsure of how he might react, but he let Holly touch him, a hand slipping to the bed so he could hold on to her ankle to keep her upright. She leaned close to his face, trying to peel away his fingers as if he were playing another game of peek-a-boo with her. “Jessjake sad?” Holly asked, and a pain seized Skyler’s chest. Holly knew all about sadness. The amount of times her mother had cried over her as she sat in her lap would have left a deep impression.

 

It was killing Marie that she couldn’t console him, couldn’t envelop him into her bosom with a backlog of mothering urges; she could see it plainly in her sister’s tormented expression. But surprisingly, Holly seemed to be making the most headway. Jesse’s sobs had subsided, his shoulders slowing up and down as Holly tried to offer him her little stuffed dolphin, a gift to ease his sorrow. Without taking his hand from his face, he reached up to take it from her, if for no other reason than to keep her from shoving it at his cheek. Holly did what came naturally, like all good babies that understood what it meant to be loved and cherished, and plopped herself in his lap, playing with this coat buttons contentedly.

 

Marie finally turned to her accusingly, a hand up in the air in askance before slapping it to her leg.

 

“We had an incident,” was all that Skyler gave her.

 

“An incident? What kind of incident?”

 

 _Christ._ She needed a drink. Skyler could feel her own hands trembling now that the worst of it was over, the bite on her lip starting to throb. “We saw someone, okay? Look, I’ll give you the details later, let’s just get him rested. He … had a bad spell.”

 

Marie crinkled her nose. “A spell? Like, an attack? Like a panic attack?”

 

“I don’t know. I guess. Like, anxiety-induced? That’s why I wanted you to give him something.”

 

“No.” They both startled to hear Jesse speak.

 

“It’s not pain medication, Jesse. Nothing addictive,” she lied. “Just something to help you relax and calm down.”

 

“Don’t want it,” he mumbled, not looking at either of them, but holding on to Holly as if she were a life preserver.

 

“Well, you should lie down at least. Hank suffered from panic attacks and he would be wiped out afterwards.” Marie took another shot at comforting Jesse by patting his shoulder. He let her do it and this seemed to inspire some more effort in nursing him. “Let’s get your boots off and you can lie back on my bed. You should definitely drink some water, though. You need to replenish your system after all that adrenaline. It’s got to feel so scary, having your heart racing like that.”

 

 Jesse didn’t look like he was ready to do anything, however, his head bent behind Holly’s while she stared at her aunt and her mother from her spot on his lap. “No!” she yelled at them while slapping at the air in front of her, playing the spritely little guardian to her charge with devoted seriousness.

 

“Maybe you should put Holly in your room, let her get a nap, too.” Marie suggested. There was an eager light in her expression, and Skyler imagined she wanted her patient all to herself. Seeing it there on display so readily put her on edge. Her sister was too attached already, and Skyler wondered again just what it was that Marie wanted from the guy.

 

“I gotta go.” Jesse stirred again, lifting Holly off of his lap and setting her on the bed next to him. “I don’t need to lie down. I just need to get home.”

 

“What? What are you saying? You can’t go anywhere in your condition,” Marie objected. Skyler had to agree.

 

“Jesse, you threw up. Twice. You’re still trembling. Just lay down for a little bit until you feel normal again.”

 

Marie suddenly pulled up the bedspread, attempting to drape part of it around Jesse’s shoulders. “Oh my god, Jesse. You’re a mess. Please. Just let us help you.”

 

It took another five minutes of cajoling before he finally relented. Marie was already untying his boots before he could even get his coat off. Skyler handed him some water and a sleeping pill, but he was adamant about refusing all medication, drinking half the contents of the glass before handing it back. By the time they got him in bed, Skyler was ready for a nap, as well, feeling exhausted from the whole ordeal. But as soon as they had transferred to Skyler’s room to give Jesse some space, Marie was demanding a full report.

 

“So, who did you see?” she started, the door barely closed.

 

Skyler put Holly in her playpen and walked straight on to the mini-bar. “It was the doctor we just met. Lacey, I think,” she told her as she cracked open the seal on the vodka. Her favorite sound, these days. “He was at this hotel. We saw him leaving and Jesse panicked.”

 

“And then what happened?” Marie asked, still baffled.

 

“And then he freaked out.” Skyler took a sip from the bottle, not bothering with ice. She didn’t like looking at Marie anymore when she lied, her sister had gotten far too good at spotting her tells.

 

Marie contorted her face with exaggerated disbelief. “But he got sick everywhere? I mean, I felt his forehead and he didn’t have a fever. If anything, he was too cold. Why would the doctor get him so distraught?”

 

“I don’t know, Marie, you’d have to ask him.”

 

“Well, that’s just weird. What else did he do?” she quizzed.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Marie rolled her eyes. “I mean, what did he do? What were his symptoms? Was he short of breath? Did he look like he was going to have a heart attack? Did he start … you know … _remembering_ stuff?”

 

Skyler held out her hands. “Remember what? What are you even talking about?”

 

“Oh for crying out loud.” Her sister looked behind her as if she was worried Jesse could hear them then lowered her voice. “You know –his treatment. At the hands of those Aryan brotherhood murderers. Honestly, Skyler, I told you about the rap sheets on some of those guys. Awful, awful monsters, they were. I can’t even imagine what they put him through.”

 

But Skyler didn’t want to imagine it. She didn’t even want to hear Marie talk about it. “Look, whatever he’s going through, he’s obviously still working on some mental health problems. He probably doesn’t need you digging at him trying to play psychoanalyst. So just promise me you’ll leave him alone about the whole thing.” She raised her bottle towards the wall of the next room. “You saw him in there. He was trying to hold it together around us. I’m surprised he didn’t run out as soon as he had his wits about him. Just don’t push it, Marie, or else you’ll only push him away. You always need to interfere.”

 

Marie looked hurt for a moment, but didn’t say any more. She turned to head for the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Skyler asked, fearful that she was going to prod Jesse for the facts, regardless.

 

“I’m going to get some ice. You could at least pretend to drink like it’s after dinner.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

         They were sitting on the bed playing cards when they heard the slam from the hallway. Skyler looked up with Marie, and then they looked to each other, both of them guessing the same thing. Jesse was making a break for it.

 

Marie got to the door first and flung it open, leaping into the hall to face the direction of the elevator.

 

“Where are you going, Jes—Jake?” she called, and Skyler quickly came up behind her to see Jesse standing at the elevators with his coat and hat on. He glanced at them but then faced forward, impatiently shaking his leg as he waited for the doors to open.

 

“I’ve got some things to do then I need to get back,” he told them, his tone even and no longer a wreck.

 

“But you didn’t get much rest. What do you need to do? Maybe we can take care of it for you.” Marie offered.

 

He twisted his head around to either side, checking for other guests leaving their rooms. “Uh, this ain’t something you can do for me, alright. Just don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

 

Marie was next to him by then, as Skyler hung back by the hotel room, not wanting to leave Holly alone. Her sister was reaching to take his shoulder again, trying to get him to look at her.

 

“But then when can we see you again? I wanted to take you to dinner.”

 

“Seriously? Like, do I gotta explain this again?”

 

“Oh, I know we can’t do it around here, but … maybe we’ll just come to you.”

 

Skyler was leaning against the doorjamb with arms crossed, but she straightened up as Marie began to elucidate her plan. Her sister confounded her most days, yet there was a tenaciousness to Marie that Skyler couldn’t help but admire.

 

“So, you cooked for us last night,” Marie spoke softly so her voice wouldn’t carry, “and tonight, it’s our turn. We’ll meet you at your place with the food, you just sit back and we’ll take care of everything. No terrible stories this time. Just … good stuff. Okay?”

 

Jesse didn’t even bother to get upset, appearing to have adopted a more sanguine approach to Marie’s meddling. “Okay, whatever.”

 

“Really? You’re good with that?” Marie’s face erupted in cheer.

 

“Yeah, fine. We’ll play board games after and make some S’mores by the fireplace,” he cracked with a straight face. Skyler was relieved that he seemed to be recovering back to form.

 

“Great!” Marie leaned over and kissed Jesse on the cheek, causing Skyler to hold her breath. Jesse looked a little awkward, holding his body rigid, but he only stared back at her as if she were crazy. “We’ll be there at four. Should I bring anything special? A dessert you like, or some … wine or something?”

 

“I’ll let you figure it out,” he said, as the doors slid open and he moved quickly inside. “See you then.”

 

When Marie turned towards her, she looked as happy as Skyler had ever seen her. Certainly the happiest she’d been since finding out about Walt’s true calling and her sister’s involvement. She couldn’t begrudge Marie wanting to revel in that good feeling, knowing that Jesse Pinkman’s very existence had given her sister a reason for getting up in the morning these last six months. At least now she felt a little more secure in the knowledge that they hadn’t traveled hundreds of miles to visit a homicidal madman. A broken one, perhaps, but also a man that could still give Skyler some insight into her dead husband, which was a need she still carried from one day to the next. She resolved to be less abrasive that evening. She’d already put him through enough for one day. Skyler would aim for … nice.

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

It was with an almost pleasant sensation that she pulled into Pinkman’s driveway.

 

Skyler’s mood had lightened while they shopped for groceries, helped in no small part by the second mini bottle of vodka she’d after her shower. There was still the back up of wine in her handbag, but she made sure to add a few bottles of very fine Cabernet in the cart so that Marie would play along. It was meant to be a festive occasion, after all.

 

“Looky that, baby girl, we’re at Jessjakes,” she crowed to her daughter in the back seat. She’d been hearing the mashed-up name for the past twenty minutes.

 

Holly was holding out her grabby hand for him already. Marie whooped as they pulled up, making faces at Holly behind her. Skyler swerved a bit in the snow as she tried to pull up on the other side of his truck and her daughter screamed with excitement.

 

“Alrighty there, Danica Patrick, let’s not get carried away,” Marie gently scolded, but Skyler didn’t even let it ruffle her.

 

“Why don’t you tell me again how much fun you had driving the car this morning, Marie?” she teased.

 

They walked up to the porch with their hands full, including Holly. Marie had even bought a bouquet of brightly colored flowers that poked out of the top of her grocery bag. It was already dark, and snow was falling lightly, but her sister seemed determined to let nothing ruin the evening. When she knocked on the door, Jesse opened it instantly, as if he’d been waiting behind it for their arrival. He seemed a little stunned to see them standing there, arms loaded and faces smiling.

 

“Wow, you got enough stuff there?” he asked, standing aside to let them in.

 

“We’ve got plenty, mister. You are going to be well fed tonight,” Marie informed him as she bounded through his living room, leaving Skyler at the door with the rest of the groceries and Holly fighting to get out of her grip. Jesse reached up to take the bags out of her hand, but Holly had her hands out to him in appeal, her whines insisting she be acknowledged.

 

“Uh, which one am I supposed to take?” he asked her shyly, disarming her further with his boyishness.

 

“Here, you take this one,” Skyler drawled, handing Holly off to him, “and this one, too.” She gave him one of the bags and shifted the remaining one in her other arm, the baby’s bag and her purse slung over each shoulder. He smelled strongly of soap, with a hint of vanilla, and Skyler thought she could also detect some kind of berry scent in his hair.

 

Jesse held Holly firmly, like a pro, and followed Marie to the kitchen, already chatting to her little girl as if the book and doll she was offering him were the most fascinating things in the world. He had such an easy way with her that it gave Skyler pause, wondering again how this kid ever ended up where he did. They all converged around the tiny kitchen, making it difficult to move, and Marie was quick to direct them to their places.

 

“Okay, Jesse, we’ve got it covered in here. We need to get the prep work started. I think I know where most of your pans are kept. Why don’t you take Holly into the other room and keep her entertained. Skyler, you’re in charge of getting the fish de-boned, and I’ll get the vegetables.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, Jesse, I brought my speaker so you can plug my phone into it. We’ve got music, too.”

 

He stared at them, one then the other, looking like he had something to say, but choosing to only nod in agreement. He moved to step away, then turned back, a thought occurring.

 

“Oh, you want something to drink? I got more juice, and I bought some tea, if you want it.”

 

“That sounds lovely, but we bought wine to go with dinner,” Marie said. Jesse glanced at Skyler for a beat then looked away guiltily.

 

“Suit yourself, but I’m only allowed one glass, okay?”

 

Marie was instantly concerned. “Oh, of course, Jesse, of course. We’re all taking it a little easy tonight.”

 

“Here, why don’t I get Holly some juice for her cup, and I’ll get you her blanket,” Skyler added, trailing him out of the kitchen to the living room where Holly’s bag sat by the chair. She fished inside for the sippy cup, and pulled out a blanket to drape across the floor.

 

“So she can play on it,” she told him as she handed it over. He took it from her, Holly still perched on his hip, and Skyler took closer notice of his appearance. Jesse was wearing a mustard yellow turtleneck that was not only doing amazing things for the color in his skin, but doing a fine job accentuating his arms and shoulders, no longer the skinny kid she remembered that looked like he could be knocked over by a feather. His beard was neatly trimmed, too, and the gel in his hair spiked it across the top in a rakish way. Even the low-slung jeans he had on looked clean and pressed, and hugged all the right places. Skyler wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He looked good filled out, and she was reminded again that he was a grown man.

 

“Uh, is there something else?” he asked, and Skyler suddenly realized she’d been staring quite rudely.

 

“Oh, uh, no—” she stared down at the ground, feeling foolish. She could see his feet were in socks and then noticed that she was still in her snow boots. “It’s just that I ..am stepping wet snow and dirt all over your carpet. I’m so sorry.”

 

They had actually dressed appropriately for the drive, and worn proper boots this time for the weather. She still had her snowjacket and scarf on. Skyler bent down to slip off her boots, but they weren’t the zippered kind and the fit was quite snug, forcing her to hop on a leg as she tried to remove them.

 

“Here, sit down and I’ll help you with those.” Jesse had snapped the blanket out on the floor and sat Holly in the middle of it, but he came back and kneeled in front of her, getting her to stick out a leg. He put a hand under her knee and lifted, putting the other behind her heel so he could pull the boot toward him. The whole thing felt oddly intimate to Skyler and her insides fluttered a bit, making her self-conscious. Once he had pulled off the other, he stood up and marched them to a spot by the door where he kept his own boots. He walked half-way back and held out a hand for her coat.

 

“Aren’t you the gentleman,” she couldn’t help tease as she unzipped the front. Jesse’s expression turned wary, not sure if she was being insulting or not, but she gave him a warm smile as she handed him her jacket and he relaxed.

 

“Yeah, well … are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

 

The smile stayed. “I’m probably going to open up one of those bottles of wine. Sure you won’t join me?”

 

“I’m good.” He gave her a nod before shuffling over to where her daughter was attempting to climb up a chair. Jesse lifted her high in the air and Holly screamed with glee.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Jesse struggles through the long, winter night of a conversation between Marie and Skyler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! The author would like to wish everyone a warm week with their families and loved ones. Please note that next week, the story will be taking a break, but will return on the 5th of the New Year. The author has been getting steadily behind as the demands of the holiday have gotten in the way. The paint is still wet on this chapter, so apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> Also, to note, the author has added frighteningly few tags to this story, in terms of pairings, warnings, styles, etc. This is to leave some mystery to the characters' actions as it enfolds. There will be instances coming up where the chapters will need to be tagged with some warnings for the content, but please be assured that things will never be too explicit. It will remain a Mature rating.
> 
> If you are curious about the music Jesse plays later, you can listen to it here:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfeocOdzZrg

 

**_Chapter 6_ **

****

****

                Jesse ate quietly as they talked, the music from the speaker playing at a tepid volume in the background. The playlist seemed to be comprised of pop hits from the eighties. Marie was in full form, animated and convivial as she went into great detail about a fateful camping trip the sisters had taken when they were teenagers. He half-listened to her story, offering a meager smile when appropriate, but mostly watching both women as a study in contrast: Marie so bubbly that it had to be an act, he felt like she was trying very hard to convince herself this was a good time, and Skyler cradling her wine as she sat back in her chair with an arm across her middle; regal, poised, like some queen being only passably entertained by her subjects.

 

                He’d felt vastly different sitting down to dinner than he had the night before. Knowing that Skyler had seen him at his most vulnerable, yet not really sure what she’d witnessed, left him diffident around her. She hadn’t given any indication that the event had even happened since they’d arrived, for which he was grateful. They were being so nice to him and he had no cause to be defensive; it was throwing him off.

 

                “And so there we were, clutching each other for dear life, and we could hear it climb _up_ on the back of Dad’s truck, ripping the bags he’d left there. Oh my god, we were so terrified, but Skyler kept whispering, “ _I am so going to kill him if that bear eats us_ ”. You remember, Skyler, how mad you were when it finally went away? I really thought that you were going to punch Dad in the face when we all came out of our tents.”

 

                “Well, I did tell him to take the food scraps down to the trash bins, but you really couldn’t tell that man anything,” Skyler commented, looking more irked than amused by the memory. “But it was worth it to see his face after the bear left. For such a brilliant man, he could be _reee-ally_ stupid.”

 

                Marie’s grin dimmed, but she tried to maintain a jocular spirit at the table. “Carlsbad was such a great place. There are so many great parks around there. I think that was the last time we went camping, though, wasn’t it?”

 

                “With Mom and Dad, yeah. She died, what? Two years later? But Walt and I went camping a few times, before Flynn was born. Up in the Sandia Mountains, near the labs.”

 

                Jesse perked up his head at the mention of Walt. “He went camping?” he asked, a little surprised.

 

                Skyler seemed interested that he was interested. “Yes. Yes, he did. Why, does that not fit in with your image of him?” She didn’t say it in a mocking way, merely curious.

 

                “Uh, no, not … I mean, we, uh … we almost had a … _crisis_ out in the desert, I guess you could say. He … _Walt_ seemed to know a lot about … survival stuff.”

 

                “Oh, hey now, you can’t stop there. Do tell us what _stuff._ What happened?”

 

                Jesse felt his awkwardness heighten, the heat in his face making him swallow hard. He had better not be blushing. “Nothing big. I mean, well, kinda. The … the RV’s battery died on us, and we were stranded … for a while.”

 

                Skyler narrowed her eyes. “The RV? You were out on a cook?”

 

                He dipped his head, scraping his fish around the plate. “Uh, yeah. Mr. Wh—I mean … Walt, wanted to do a big batch. It was a four day thing. We made over forty two pounds in just two of ‘em, but then, uh, we found out we were stuck there. It got … bad.”

 

                “But you made it back. On schedule?” Skyler asked calmly.

 

                “Oh, yeah. I dropped him off at the airport. I think you were gonna pick him up. But … if it hadn’t been for Walt’s science skills, shit would have been different, that’s for sure.”

 

                “Okay, I’m totally fascinated now,” Marie inserted. “What did you do out there? Your set up, I mean. _42 pounds?_   That sounds like a lot.”

 

                “It was. Biggest load we’d ever produced back then. You know, before we went in with Gus. But I remember— he’d do all these little things, like using our lawn chairs as screens to shade us from the sun. Or making sure our body temperature was in a good zone. And then he made that battery out of sponges and spare change. It was crazy. That was some impressive shit.” He had to smile to himself, recalling how Walt had gotten the idea. “Oh, and copper. We needed to have copper to conduct the current.” It still amazed him that he couldn’t recall one thing from Walt’s Chemistry class, but he remembered every bit of science Walt showed him during their partnership. _You made poison out of beans, yo._

                “He was supposed to be at his mother’s,” Skyler said wryly. Jesse took in her somewhat bemused expression. It was hard to tell when this woman was really angry or just sad, sometimes. He imagined it was a mixture of both.

 

                “What do you mean?” Marie asked.

 

                “He told me he was going up to his mother’s to tell her about his cancer. I knew he was full of it. As soon as he got back, I just knew it. I could tell there was something … _different_ about him. That he’d been through something.”

 

                “That was when he thought … he thought it was it for him,” Jesse added, not sure why he was bothering to defend Walter. “He’d been coughing up blood while we were out there. He was worried –he wanted to make sure I got the money to you.”

 

                “Of course,” she said dully, taking a drink of her wine, her eyes downcast.

 

                “Wait a minute. Wasn’t that around the time we found out his cancer had gone into remission?” Marie had her finger up again, a gesture that Jesse was starting to understand meant that she was in command of the floor. “Because I remember you talking about his mother and what a pain in the ass she was, while he was gone. Then we had that big meeting with his doctor the next week.”

 

                Skyler had closed her eyes, nodding her head. “We were all so relieved.”

 

The conversation stalled as the sisters were lost to their own private reminisces. Jesse thought about his own meeting with Walt a few weeks later, how worried he’d been wondering what had happened to him; how he, too, had been _relieved_ to hear of Walt’s amazing recovery. He felt a thousand things about that moment now.

 

                “He wasn’t going to go back,” he spoke into the silence. “To the meth, I mean. He said we would sell what we had and then he was done. I think he really meant it, too. But then, _things happened._ ” Oh, and he still didn’t like to think about exactly _which_ things. But he was trying to make the women feel better – to make _Skyler_ feel better for marrying such a lying asshole, so he thought about Gus, and how persuasive he could be.

 

                “I think Gus changed his mind. Did one of his Jedi mind tricks on him. Got him thinking about all that money he could make. Walt liked his money.”

 

                “I still can’t believe that Fring had such an extensive operation,” Marie said. “It was global. That man was like a genius. And he had everyone fooled.” She smiled down at her plate. “Everyone but Hank, that is.”

 

“Yeah, how’d he even figure it out? About Gus being the big meth king?” Jesse asked. Hank hadn’t struck him as that smart of a guy until they’d started planning together to bring Walt down. It had been something of a surprise. It was too bad his smarts had gotten him killed. ( _You add a plus douchebag to a minus douchebag … zero douchebags_ )

 

“It was the evidence they found at Gale Boetticher’s house. Hank had a friend in the APD, lovely man named Tim who was a detective on that case. He asked Hank for help and brought him all the files. The Los Pollos bag and Fring’s fingerprints got him started. He told me how he had lead up to it in his meeting with Merkert and Gomez, really smooth, then just dropped the bomb in one swoop, wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, totally Columbo-style. I wish I had seen it.”

 

Jesse lost his appetite at the mention of Gale. He picked up his glass and took another sip. He had to be careful with the alcohol consumption; he didn’t want to risk even getting tipsy. The two shots of whiskey he’d downed at a bar after leaving their hotel had been needed, if only to get back his equilibrium, but he didn’t want to be sloppy around them, anymore. Around Skyler.

 

“How do you like your wine, Jesse?” Skyler asked while cutting at her food.

 

“Uh, it’s nice. Smells good. What is it, like a Cab?” He probed through his memory for all the lectures his dad used to give at the table. “There’s like, two of them, right?”

 

“Yes,” she answered, looking up at him with some amusement. “We’re drinking a Cabernet Franc. That’s very good, Jesse. Never figured you for a connoisseur.”

 

He gave a half-assed chuckle. “Yeah, not quite. My dad, though, he was into this European kick for a while, making us drink wine with dinner. I was pretty young, too, but he said all the European families let the kids drink early to develop their taste buds, or whatever. He stopped serving it after I got busted with pot in my room. You know, in his mind, one joint meant I was a full blown addict.”

 

“How old were you when you started smoking pot?” Marie asked, appearing concerned for him again. Her mothering was teetering on the disturbing.

 

“Um, I don’t know. Thirteen? Maybe younger.” It had been fourteen, but he’d wanted to shock her, wanted to see how she’d react. He had started a smoking habit at twelve.

 

“Why do you think you started? Was it because of the pressure your parents put on you?” Skyler snorted and Marie flashed her an affronted look before returning back to him, fully serious.

 

“Uh, I don’t know, because. I liked getting high.” He glanced at Skyler while stroking the stem of his wine glass. “All the artsy chicks smoked pot, right, and some of them were way sexy.”

 

“Ah, I see,” Marie said knowingly. “The older women thing, again. You must have had a lot of girlfriends in school, Jesse, what with your constant attention on them. All of your _training._ ”

 

“I did alright.” They hadn’t really been _girlfriends_ , per se, just chicks that he had banged until he’d moved on to another one. Donna had been sweet, though. She had given him lots of instruction. They’d even fucked a few times in her classroom.

 

“Oh, don’t be modest. I’m sure you were the perfect little boyfriend, too,” she said, making him freeze mid-sip.

 

“Why would you say that?” he asked her gruffly, suddenly not liking the conversation anymore.

 

Marie seemed thrown by his shift in attitude. “Oh … well … you know, you just have a _thing_ about you that says … well, you’re kind of a pleaser.”

 

Holly became vocal, holding up her fork as she rambled on in nonsensical noises. Jesse tried to keep himself calm, not wanting to upset the little girl the way he’d done the night before.

 

“What the hell would you know about what kind of boyfriend I’d make?” he insisted. “Why would you even think that?”

 

“Jesse, I didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t get upset.”

 

“I’m _not upset,_ ” he said in a voice that sounded decidedly upset. “But don’t say shit when you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

 

Skyler rested a hand on his arm. “Jesse, calm down. Marie was trying to be kind.”

 

He let her keep her hand there; it centered him a bit, making him think of how she’d felt while holding on to him that afternoon. But he didn’t want to let Marie off that easily.

 

“Yeah, well I think my _girlfriends_ would disagree with you. _Marie_. Like, the one I got hooked back on heroin? And OD’d right next to me? I don’t think _she’d say_ that I was good boyfriend material. Or how about the one that got shot in the back of the head? Because I screwed up? And now her little boy has no mother? You think she thought I was the perfect boyfriend?” His voice rose, his breathing getting heavier with each question, and the knot in his chest started to squeeze tight enough that his vision swam a bit before him, making Marie’s face blur. “Yeah, I sound like a real winner, don’t I? Kind you take home to mom,” he told her thickly, feeling sick. Jesse stood up, the table silent.

 

“I’m, uh, gonna take a smoke break. Dinner was lovely.” He dropped his napkin and turned behind him, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the counter. Holly held out a green bean to him. “Jessjake.” He walked by her, his sight on the door, the fist getting tighter until he couldn’t breathe.

 

As soon as he stepped outside and closed the front door, he gasped, sucking in the cold air until it froze his lungs. He looked down at his feet, still in their socks, but he didn’t want to go back inside even for a coat. Jesse took another deep breath and walked to the end of the porch, where it ran to the side of the house. He leaned back against the wall, watching the snow descend indolently from the blackness, and lit up a cigarette. He knew he couldn’t let them continue to wreak havoc with his nerves like this. He felt fragile enough before they showed up, but at least he had reached an ability to function in the outside world. Jesse worried about his urges. His craving for some glass that afternoon had been stark and precise, knowing exactly how his body would react to the drug but desperate for that little bit of euphoria.

 

He heard the door close and jerked his body around, catching Skyler walking over to where he stood. She held his coat in her hand, already bundled up herself. She handed it to him as she stepped to the railing, sitting on the ledge as she looked up into the sky. She stretched her body a bit so she could lean out from under the roof, making him nervous as she tipped back. A few snowflakes landed on her hair, her blonde head gleaming under the moonlight and the stars. Wordlessly, he slipped his coat on as Skyler sat forward again. She presented a cigarette from her pocket which she poised at her mouth. He flicked his lighter into a flame and extended it to her.

 

“Thanks,” she said as she finished her drag. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you. I try not to smoke around Holly too much.”

 

Jesse shrugged in his apathy. These two women were going to do whatever they wanted, his objections meant nothing.

 

“Marie feels bad about what she said. It wasn’t her intention to bring up bad memories for you. She just gets a little … overzealous.”

 

“Yeah, well, she needs to stop making excuses for me,” Jesse said. He was getting tired of her brushing over his crimes, like he’d had no say in the choices he’d made. “I wasn’t no victim. I knew what I was doing. I could have walked away, like, a thousand times, but I didn’t.” He took another puff, the stream of smoke mixing with the cold air from his mouth. “It’s on me, what happened. I gotta live with that. She shouldn’t try to take it away. It’s like – like she wants me to be something I’m not.”

 

Skyler was watching his face closely, her own expression muddled. She looked to her feet. “Well … you’re absolutely right, I agree. Marie is romanticizing your role in everything because she’s … she’s suffering, and she needs something to save. Because she couldn’t save Hank.” She looked up at him again. “And that something is you. I appreciate you saying that, however. I’m – it’s good that you understood what you did. It means that you can … change, maybe. Although, I guess it would seem you’ve been changed quite a bit already. But perhaps, you can find some redemption for yourself.”

 

“I don’t know if I deserve to be redeemed.”

 

“Well, we never feel like we deserve it, but then … it’s not always up to us.” Her features hardened.  “I know what it’s like to condemn yourself. To be cut off from people, to stop feeling things that you used to take for granted. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself what … _pleasure_ even feels like.”

 

Jesse shivered, feeling the cold through his coat, but bothered by her mood. He thought again about her voice that afternoon, sounding disembodied yet strong and soothing as she guided him through the hotel, though he could remember the weight of her hand curved around his side.

 

“Hey, uh, I wanted to thank you for what you did today,” he told her, feeling abashed but knowing he needed to say it. “At the hotel. You didn’t … you didn’t have to do that. So …” He trailed off, not sure what else to say, but still anxious.

 

Skyler seemed surprised, on her way to incredulous even, and it took a few seconds for her to respond. “Jesse – I’m pretty sure I’m the reason you had your reaction in the first place. What could you possibly be _thanking_ me for? For not deserting you in the parking lot?”

 

“Yeah, but, you did it ‘cause the doc was there, right? I mean, he would have seen me. Or maybe he did, anyway, I don’t know. But, you know … it was a solid move. It’s just that,” he bent his head, staring at her hand curled on the railing, “you just can’t, uh – you can’t … _grab me_ like that out of nowhere. I don’t like … I mean, you just can’t do that, okay?”

 

She sighed. “No kidding. I kissed you, and you _vomited_. Can’t get any more blatant with a girl than that.”

 

The way she said it made his skin tingle, feeling momentarily warm. He locked eyes with her. “It had nothing to do with you. Trust me.” He swallowed hard. “Um, I … didn’t say anything, did I?”

 

Her face darkened. “You said some things.”

 

 _Shit._ “Oh. Like, names?”

 

She shook her head. “No. No names.”

 

Jesse closed his eyes and let out a breath. That was some consolation, at least.

 

“Well, I didn’t mean to be a dick when I came out of it. I— I was just embarrassed. Falling apart like that …” It hadn’t happened to him in months. “Like I said, I don’t do too good with some subjects. Talking about certain things … it just fucks me up, sometimes.”

 

Skyler was quiet for a moment, looking around at the scenery. When she spoke up again, her voice sounded small, and ashamed, making him step closer to hear her. “I’m sorry, too, Jesse. For prodding you this morning. For being such a … so unpleasant since we arrived here. I just didn’t know what to expect. Or maybe, I did. Maybe I had this idea of what I _wanted_ to find, and it pissed me off that you weren’t matching up to that person. I really want to hate you, you know.”

 

Jesse held his breath as she talked, hoping she’d continue. He had the notion that Walt’s wife hating him was probably a good thing, yet he was weirdly hoping that she was changing her mind. The curve of his side, right above his hip, pulsed again with the memory of her clutching him tightly.

 

Her gaze met his. “I need to protect my family. _Always._ And Marie is so … _willful._ She always has been. I needed to come out here to make sure she would be safe, that you wouldn’t hurt her. And if I’m being honest, I was probably hoping that she would change her mind about you, see that you were ... Anyway, I … I think you’ve been through enough pain, Jesse, to have any desire to will it on others. I made a promise to Marie, and I intend to keep it. I don’t want you to see us as a threat. I’m not here to hurt you, Jesse.”

 

He breathed in sharply, feeling the cold prick along the back of his throat. People didn’t say that to him very often. In fact, it was usually the exact reverse opposite of a sentiment like that. He took a few more steps until he was almost touching her knees, flicking his cigarette into the snow.

 

“I would never hurt any of you. I _wouldn’t_. Ever. I’ve been pissed at your jack-off dead husband, but I don’t mean to take it out on you, I swear. You guys weren’t responsible for all the stupid shit I did that got me here. So … you know, when I’m being an asshole, just call me out. I can take it.”

 

She gave a hollow laugh, lacking any mirth whatsoever. “Yes, I suppose you can take just about anything.”

 

He moved his thumb near her swelled lip, wanting to stroke it but not quite that courageous. “Did I do that?” he asked, wishing he could remember what the kiss had felt like. 

 

Skyler nodded, her mouth slightly opened. There was something dark in her eyes daring him, but whether to move forward or to back off, he wasn’t really sure, making the moment scarily thrilling.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She didn’t move, just kept looking at his mouth, her eyelashes downcast. “You didn’t make me sick, Skyler,” he whispered. “I’ll prove it.” He pressed his lips to hers softly, aware of the spot where he had bitten her. He moved to kiss one side of her mouth then kissed the other, leaving the swollen part free from further damage. He stepped back, still watching her face.

 

“See? No puking. I am puke-free.”

 

But Skyler simply slid off of the rail, standing up and clasping the sides of his face in both hands. When she kissed him back, there wasn’t anything soft about it. Instantly, her tongue was in his mouth and then she was moving him backwards, until he was up against the wall, the wood slats digging into his back. Her hands roved over his body as her kiss grew harder, more frantic. He started to feel dizzy, needing air, and not particularly ready for this sudden change of pace. When he felt her palm his crotch, he jerked violently, no longer wanting to play. Jesse grabbed her wrist, pushing her away from him.

 

“Whoah-whoah. What the hell? What are you doing?”

 

Skyler froze, her mouth open again as if she were about to protest, but said nothing. They stood there like that for a few moments, until they heard the front door open, and Skyler quickly stepped away from him, adjusting her hair and running a hand across her mouth.

 

“Skyler?” Marie was on the porch, and they both moved into the light so she could see them. “Oh, there you are. How many cigarettes are you gonna smoke?”

 

“We were just talking, Marie,” Skyler said quietly, her cigarette dropped at some point. She folded her arms in front of her and walked towards the brightness of the house. “We should probably get going soon. Did you heat up the pie yet?”

 

Jesse lagged a few steps behind, still shaken by Skyler accosting him. He hadn’t been prepared for anything like that, and he wasn’t sure what it meant about the way she saw him now. He had surprised himself by even kissing her in the first place, but then, he’d figured she’d started it that afternoon. What was going through her head? It was the kind of move he’d anticipated from Marie, not the sister who had initially looked at him like he was a cockroach.

 

As if to back-up that very thought, as soon as he stepped into the house, Marie was in front of him, just shy of throwing her arms around his neck. She stopped at grabbing the lapels of his coat, her face near his and close to tears.

 

“Jesse, I am _sooo_ sorry. I didn’t mean to drudge up painful memories, or to imply _anything_ that made you uncomfortable. I’m just—I say stupid things and put my foot in my mouth. I wasn’t thinking. Please forgive my rambling. I feel just awful.”

 

His hands snaked around her forearms, trying to peel her off. “Nah, it’s cool. Don’t worry about it,” he told her smoothly, belying how awkward he still felt from Skyler’s grabby hands. “I acted like a prick.” He closed the door behind him, and Marie looked a bit more settled, a hopeful smile tinging her expression. “Just do me a favor,” he warned, “and stop making me sound like I’m Mr. Wonderful, okay? I’m not.”

 

Marie pointed to him in acknowledgement. “You got it. You’re a terrible person. Now, ready for some pie? I got apple and a pecan. I wasn’t sure which one you’d like.”

 

So they all sat in the living room eating pie while Holly hopped her dolphin around his table. Both he and Marie were still on their first glass of wine, but somehow, the bottle had been emptied anyway and Skyler was well into the second. It was disconcerting; the woman drank like a fish. But he worried about them on the road heading back to their hotel. It was a long drive through a dense forest. The thought of them having an accident, with Holly in the car … he started feeling twisted up, uncomfortable in his own house, not understanding where these thoughts were coming from.

 

“This really is a neat little place, Jesse. It’s so cozy,” Marie told him. “How’d you find it?”

 

He looked around the room, attempting to see it through her eyes. “Yeah, it’s, like, just what I needed. Perfect spot, perfect size. I hated cleaning my old house.” He didn’t bother to feel silly about the irony. “I got really lucky with this place.” He thought about Doc Lacey’s face this afternoon, how the man had seemed upset by Skyler’s presence. “It’s … I’m renting it from the Doc. He’s giving me a really good price, too.” That was an understatement. He stuck his fork in the pecan, scraping a piece off the plate. “He’s a good guy.” Jesse knew how true of a statement that was, feeling a twinge of guilt.

 

“How did you meet him?” Marie asked. Jesse smiled to himself. Skyler was right, her sister _did_ need to know everything.

 

“Uh, just, uh, did some work for him,” he lied. “We got to talking. He told me he hadn’t been up here in a while and could use someone to fix it up a bit. He’s got a super nice house in town, near his office.” He paused, wondering if he’d said too much, but it seemed like Marie was on to a new subject.

 

“So, I hope you came straight home and took a good long nap after you left us.”

 

Sleep was the last thing Jesse could have handled by the time he got home. But a two hour bath and a good scrubbing had helped. “Sure,” he said.

 

“Skyler said it was a pretty bad episode. Does it happen to you often?”

 

Jesse breathed in deeply and heaved a sigh. “Well. Not in a while.” It was futile, really, to try and resist her.

 

“Is it just a panic situation? Or is it more like post-trauma from a trigger?” she asked.

 

“Marie. Leave him alone,” Skyler interjected, with eyes on her pie.

 

“What? I’m just wondering if there’s anything we can help with. I told you how much Dave has helped me over the years, Jesse, especially after – you know, everything in the last year. Maybe we can find you someone around here?”

 

“Uh, no.” Jesse shut her down immediately. Holly had come over to hold on to his knees, trying to present her dolphin to him as close to his nose as possible. He set down his plate and picked her up, shifting her to sit on his lap. She was a sweet little girl and just smelling the back of her head made him feel better.

 

“Jesse, give it a chance. The psychiatric profession is bound by confidentiality. Hell, you don’t even have to tell them anything concrete, just some of …” she paused, trying to choose her words carefully. “Just things that you may need to talk about.”

 

“No,” he told her again, jogging Holly up and down on his knee. She laughed in her enjoyment, soon exhibiting a case of the hiccups.

 

“Look, it happens. We have to deal with these feelings. You can’t just shut them down. Ask Skyler, she’ll tell you. When Walt was at his worst with her, she had a total meltdown. First freaking out at work, then almost drowning herself. It was terrible. But she got so much better once she started sessions with Paul—wait, it was Peter, right?— which was a miracle, considering what that jackass was putting her through at home, and then _lied_ about it to the rest of us. I can’t even imagine.”

 

Skyler gave her sister a withering look. “Thanks, Marie. Thank you _so_ much.”

 

“ _Well_ … didn’t it help? I mean, my God, I can still hear you from that day when we were planning Walt’s birthday. That “ _shut up, shut up”_ going on and on. I had nightmares about it for weeks.”

 

Skyler raised her eyebrows, appearing disturbed. “You did?”

 

“After we had to pull you out of the pool? Yes, Skyler, I was beside myself.” She turned back to Jesse, again with the finger. “I’m just saying – think about it. I’ll pay the bill, you just find the guy. Or girl. Whomever. I’d just hate to think about you going through another attack like that with no one around to help you, or God forbid; someone who would take advantage of the situation.”

 

Jesse listened to her go on, keeping mum, not sure if he wanted to cringe or to cry. Marie was being so kind, but she was also out of her mind. How could she not see him for what he really was? And thinking about people taking advantage of “ _the situation_ ” was making his skin crawl. An image of Skyler drowning in the White’s back swimming pool inserted itself in his thoughts, and he stopped jiggling Holly, feeling nauseous, wondering what Walt could have done to her for her to try such a thing. These two were flooding him with way too many emotions to deal with at one time. He needed some relief from it all.

 

“Hey, uh, how’s about we play some cards. Holly, you want to play poker, huh? You wanna play a little five card stud?” He pulled her up so that her feet landed on his knees, burrowing his nose in her middle. The screeching of unbridled joy was earsplitting, followed by a cascade of giggles. Jesse absolutely loved hearing it, being bathed in that sound like some kind of purification for his spirit. He widened his eyes and opened his mouth at her, delving in the innocence of being child-like again. “You gonna be a little card shark, Holly?”

 

When he glanced at the sisters, they wore different expressions: Marie practically ecstatic, and Skyler dumbfounded, the latter staring at him as if he’d made the most absurd request she’d ever heard.

 

“No? Not a fan? We could play go fish, if it’s more your speed.”

 

“Are you kidding? I’ll wipe the floor with you in a game of Texas Hold ‘Em,” Marie gloated. “If I could beat Hank, then I can beat your cute little behind, mister.”

 

“Uh, please don’t talk about my behind, thank you.”

 

“Well, I only call it like I see it. Just like I know this little angel right here is the sweetest, isn’t she? She’s the sweetest baby in the world.” Her voice affected the high-pitch reserved for baby praising. Holly bobbed up and down on his lap, thrilled to have so much attention. “You’re so good with her, Jesse. She doesn’t usually take to new people, but she just loves you, don’t you, Holly?” Holly bounced in agreement. “Jessjake!” she shouted.

 

“Ah, she likes the bad boys already,” Jesse mused. “You’re gonna have to watch her when she’s older. She’ll be a little troublemaker.”

 

“Great, just like her daddy,” Skyler said flatly. She took another gulp of her wine.

 

“No, more like her momma,” added Marie. “If she’s going for the bad boys.”

 

Jesse gave them both a doubtful look. “What? Professor Nerdy pants? No way. I can’t see him as a bad boy when he met you,” he said to Skyler. “No matter what happened later.”

 

“Oh, no, I’m not talking about Walt,” Marie said. “Although, Walt was supposed to be the upgrade, you know; the upstanding, responsible one. Not like her previous boyfriends, at all. Funny how that worked out, huh?”

 

“Marie, don’t go there, please. Jesse doesn’t want to hear about my old boyfriends.”

 

“How do you know? Maybe I do,” he told her, still feeling the imprint of her hand against his junk. He was suddenly very interested in Skyler’s possibly slutty past.

 

“Oh my God, Skyler, do you remember that one guy you were seeing for about six months with the shiny motorcycle? He had amazing hair and he used to wear one dangling earring all the time? I think he was trying to look like Jason Patrick in _Lost Boys?”_

“You mean Kiefer Sutherland?”

 

“No, I don’t think that was his name.”

 

“No, Marie,” Skyler shook her head, “Kiefer Sutherland was the one who had the earring, not Jason Patrick. And you’re thinking of Tom Nunez with the motorcycle. His family lived over on San Mateo.”

 

“Tom, yeah! You know, he came in to Kleinman once, to get an x-ray. I didn’t do them for him, but Angie did – the one I told you about with the squirrel hair? But anyway, I recognized him right away, even though he had gotten really fat.” She held up a finger to her nose. “And I’m pretty sure it was Jason Patrick with the earring dangling. I think I had his poster up in my room.” 

 

“But Kiefer Sutherland was playing the vampire leader, so it would make sense for him to have the dangling earring. Wasn’t it, like, a cross, or something?”

 

Marie made a face. “He was a vampire. Why on earth would he be wearing a cross?”

 

Skyler shrugged. “I thought he was wearing it ironically.”

 

Jesse suddenly felt like he was sitting in a room with Badger and Skinny Pete again.

 

“Um, what are you even talking about?” he asked them.

 

“Great, now I have to google the damn movie,” Marie complained, getting up to go to her phone.

 

“Marie, no one cares …” but her sister was already popping it out of its speaker pod. Skyler looked to Jesse with a put upon expression that suggested she had to deal with this all the time, but Jesse was a little bummed that the topic of Skyler’s bad boys had been dropped already.

 

“So, you liked ‘em a little rough, huh?” Considering she had practically jumped him only moments ago, Jesse felt he was due an answer.

 

“They had their uses,” she told him, staring him down. She turned to her sister as soon as Marie sat down on the couch, showing off her discovery.

 

“Look, that is a dangling earring. Right there.”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

Marie fiddled with her phone, looking for the station she had on earlier, but Jesse held out his hand to her.

 

“Hey, let me see that.” As soon as she gave it to him, he started scrolling through selections. “We need to get you ladies into the present,” he commented.

 

“Oh, I can’t listen to hip hop, it’s too thumpy,” Marie informed him, provoking a snide look in her direction.

 

“Uh, and you think I listen to that, why?” Holly was trying to help him pick something by patting the face of the phone, but he let her sit back against him while he finished. “Sweet, here we go.”

 

A woman’s long, harmonious moan oozed out of the device, the strains of a sitar and tabla drums swirling around them in a tinny version of the music. Jesse liked the immediate sense of tranquility it imparted, and chants like something from Tibetan monks hovered in the edges. It was rhythmic and sensual, something that reminded him of a past and a place that had nothing to do with speed production, or with Nazi wanna-bes, or with any violence at all. He handed it back to Marie.

 

She stared at the phone for a beat, not sure if she understood what she was listening to, but then got up to connect it back to the speaker. The music filled the room, leaving Jesse with the sudden urge to turn the lights down and get stoned with these two. Thankfully, he knew the likelihood of that happening—even if he’d had the pot on hand—had less of a chance than Walt walking in through the front door.

 

“So, should I get the deck, or what?”

 

Skyler was watching him. “We should probably get on the road. It’s late enough. We don’t want the snow getting any harder on the way back.”

 

Jesse stared at her, the words on his tongue like swallows flittering on branches. He wanted to say it, but he knew it was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea. He was absolutely crazy to even be thinking it. He opened his mouth, a voice yelling in his head to shut the fuck up.

 

“Uh, well … you know, if you _want_ –and I’m not saying you should or anything—but if you think it would be, uh … _safer_ , you know you’re always welcome to … to _stay here_ again. For tonight. If you want, though, it’s up to you. I’m just sayin’ … don’t feel like you have to or anything.”

 

It was quiet for several seconds, Skyler eyeing him in a manner he couldn’t discern as curious or suspect. Holly yawned, her head heavy against his sternum. Marie gazed expectantly at her sister, trying to quell the eagerness in her face.

 

“Skyler? What do you think? I’m not looking forward to that long drive. And Holly is ready for bed right now. She’ll be passed out before we even leave the driveway.”

 

“What the hell are we paying the hotel for if we’re never going to stay there,” Skyler complained.

 

“Well, all of our _stuff_ is in the rooms, so there’s that.” Skyler simply scowled at her sister.

 

Jesse didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. He’d given her a clear open. “So head back there,” he said in as noncommittal a reply as he could manage.

 

Skyler looked back and forth between them. “I … _we_ don’t want to put you out again. I can do the driving.”

 

“Skyler! You’ve been drinking! You’ve had more than two glasses—with the condition it is out there, in the dark, you think you’re getting behind a wheel? No way.”

 

She was rubbing her eyes. “Oh, for god’s sake, Marie, I’m hardly incapacitated.”

 

“But it doesn’t take much,” he added. “Why risk it?”

 

“Why, indeed,” she said, confusing him further.

 

“What the hell does that mean?” Marie asked, obviously preparing herself for an argument, but Skyler cut her off.

 

“Fine, Marie. We’ll stay put. Okay? Are you happy, now? Can this discussion be finished?” Marie shrugged with exaggerated effect. “Great. I’m going to put Holly to bed then.” When Skyler faced him, he imagined he could detect a little nervousness there. “Are you fine with me putting her in your room? Or do you need to go in there first or something?”

 

Jesse answered by way of holding up a sleepy Holly. “The room should be a little warmer tonight. I had the heat on all day.”

 

“Well, okay then.”

 

As soon as she took her daughter and headed for his room, Jesse felt a little woozy, still not quite sure what had propelled him to make such an offer. Skyler was a wild card. He had no idea what he would get with her. Before he could think about it more, Marie grabbed his arm, her excitement evident in her face.

 

“So, grab that deck. And be prepared, because I’m going to beat the pants off of you, kiddo.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He was back in his studio, sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag as he sketched across his pad. The only sound in the room was the scratching of his pencil as he aggressively shaded the area around his subject’s head. Jesse’s mind was barely on his work, reflecting on the latest argument the sisters had had earlier and wondering how that affected the sleeping arrangements of the guest just outside his door. The fact that she was so close was making him agitated. Not being able to sleep was nothing new, but the jittery need to be _doing_ anything at all, that fear of wanting something to happen, but dreading it at the same time, was making him a little crazy. He just wanted to _know_ , once and for all, what her plans were.

 

It had been around eleven when Marie finally suggested they call it a night. They’d only been playing for quarters, but he’d still cleaned up. He had the sneaking suspicion that Marie was playing bad on purpose, if only to let him keep his money. Then again, he _was_ actually a damn good card player. About the only thing he’d learned from his father.

 

Of course, Marie had been expecting to take the couch again, but Skyler surprised them both when she had suggested Marie sleep with Holly while she stayed in the living room. Marie had instantly protested, claiming that Holly would want her mother near her, and then asserting that her back really needed the firmness of the couch. But Skyler would hear none of it, adopting a parental tone with her sister and a die-hard expression that declared the item wasn’t up for debate. Jesse found it all very fascinating, if a little sketchy. It seemed to him that Skyler’s insistence was rather transparent, but there was obviously something going on between the sisters that he didn’t quite have figured out. Marie finally relented to the arrangement, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment, and Jesse had a very clear picture of what she must have looked like in her youth.

 

That had been several hours ago. Meanwhile, he had to contend with the knowledge that Skyler was on his couch at this very moment, and he was absolutely positive that she wasn’t sleeping either. He had listened a few times at the door, trying to detect the rhythmic breathing of someone passed out for the night, but he had heard nothing at all, not even the ticking of a clock. He finally resorted to some music to relax him, turning out his mini player from a drawer and pressing in his earbuds, searching for more of the Indian beats that they’d been playing most of the evening. The familiar twang of the sitar let him focus and curl into his breaths, imagining a blue backdrop in his head, with waves of grass rustling over him.

 

When Jesse opened his eyes again, he stared at the picture in front of him, critiquing his work. It wasn’t the first drawing he’d done of Jane; in fact, he’d done hundreds of them. Too many of them. But it had been a long, slow process to get her right. He’d wanted to draw her as she really was, not like the cartoon style he was used to sketching. Jane wasn’t a comic strip, she had been real. There had been no photographs he could refer to, only his memory to draw from, which had made her rendering all the more difficult. He brushed a thumb over her penciled lips, smudging the lead slightly. They looked as plump and full as he remembered—a detail that he had struggled with before he’d started buying the illustration books. Jane’s lips had been a work of art all their own, and he’d wanted to do them justice.

 

Skyler reminded him of Jane a lot. They didn’t look anything alike, of course, but there was plenty that they had in common. Their commitment to making everything out of their mouths sound as sarcastic as possible, for one; he found that dry wit simultaneously a turn-on and infuriating. There were often times that he had felt Jane was making fun of him a little too mercilessly, but then she’d smile at him and it was as if the sun had suddenly poured into his heart.

 

They both had a confidence that attracted him a lot, even when they were being royal bitches. It was so effortless and assured, a thing that he had always wanted to possess but always felt like he was faking at badly. He was, after all, the supreme blowfish, as Mr. White had so eloquently explained to him. He recalled actually being lifted up by that talk, not realizing until much later just how condescending and insulting Walt’s cataloguing of his traits had been. But Skyler wasn’t any kind of blowfish. She walked around like she had a rod of steel in her spine.

 

There was, unfortunately, another thing they had in common which made for a lot of complicated feelings. He couldn’t ignore Skyler’s drinking. Whether she was a full-blown alcoholic, or on her way to being one, it really wouldn’t matter much if Jesse let them stay any longer. He couldn’t witness any more addiction in his life. His feelings for Jane had been so tied up in his need for that blissful, pain-free state on her smack for so long, that he hadn’t been able to crave one without craving the other. It was confusing, leaving him desperate for some kind of satisfaction, but unable to trust pleasure in anything that he was used to. He didn’t even have the comfort of sex to revert to, his old fallback whenever his life had gotten too overwhelming. It had always been ten times better when he was on meth, but even during the times he worked hard to stay clean, it was a distraction that could give him _something_ , some kind of high that would let him get to the next moment.

 

Now it was a minefield. He couldn’t even jerk off properly, a fact that was so pathetically sad he didn’t know what to do with the information. But thinking about Skyler running her hands over him—once she had no longer _physically_ been running her hands over him—left him with feelings coming back into his body as if he’d been thawing out from a deep freeze. He plucked at his loose sweatpants around the crotch, feeling things right this very second.

 

As if she’d been summoned by his thoughts, Jesse looked up to discover Skyler standing half-inside of his doorway, a look on her face that suggested she had no idea what the hell she was doing there. He quickly pulled the buds from his ears, pretty sure that he hadn’t heard her knock.

 

“Uh, come on in, why don’t you. Good thing I wasn’t masturbating.” He felt instantly annoyed with her presumption, but also happy to see her. The dichotomy of emotions was making him schizophrenic.

 

She hesitated a moment, before finally stepping inside and silently shutting the door behind her. Skyler had on her quilted jacket zipped up to her throat, but it appeared that that was all. The hem came midway down her thigh, where her bare legs were revealed. _Can’t get any more blatant than that, kid._ It was creepy hearing Mike’s voice in his head, but he shut it out quickly. The anxiety nestled in his gut, but he folded over the top of his sketch pad and put it aside, reaching for determination to get through this, like some sort of trial by fire.

 

“You, uh, needed something?” he asked her, panning from her face to her legs again. They were awfully long.

 

Skyler held up a finger to her lips, her eyes big to warn him of the volume of his voice. She moved smoothly to where he sat, on the balls of her feet so as to make no sound, before kneeling in front of him on his sleeping bag. Having her near him with barely any clothes on had an immediate effect on his senses. He was having a hard time swallowing, his skin feeling flushed.

 

She looked down once, at her knees, then met his eyes, her hand reaching to the back of his neck as she moved in to kiss him. He reared his head back before she could make contact with his mouth.

 

“You gonna say anything? Or is this supposed to be some silent fuck where we act like we don’t know each other?” He kept his voice to a whisper, but even he could hear the wounded offense in his tone.

 

Skyler studied his face, once again making Jesse wonder what the hell she was looking for. She was definitely perplexed by what she saw there, as she breathed an afflicted sigh in the same way she dealt with her sister.

 

“What are we supposed to say, Jesse?” she asked him so softly he had to strain to hear her.

 

“I don’t know. Like, maybe, what do you want from me?” He really needed to know.

 

She arched an eyebrow. “I would have thought that was obvious,” she replied, obnoxious even in a hoarse whisper.

 

“Oh, okay, so it’s not me, just my anatomy? Is that it? Is this like the booze? You like to fuck the pain away?” It had certainly worked for him in the past, but he felt a little let down that she subscribed to such means. “So, what? Any dick will do?”

 

His blistering accusation had no effect on her, though. “You were expecting dinner and a movie first?” she asked, her face still blank. “Although … I did provide dinner. Do you need me to tell you how special you are before I fuck you?”

 

“Uh, how about, _fuck you._ I don’t need shit from you, okay? I’m just trying to figure you out.”

 

She sighed again in her impatience. “That makes two of us, Jesse. And keep your voice down.”

 

“Well, what was all that on the porch? All that stuff you were saying?”

 

Skyler cast her eyes about the room for a breath, looking like she was trying to come to a decision. When she turned back to him, there was weariness in her expression, and she shrugged in resignation.

 

“What do you want, Jesse? Do you want me to stay or to go? Just … make up your mind.”

 

It felt strange to be given the choice, but suddenly, Jesse was grateful he had it. Apparently, it had been all he was waiting for. He put his hands forward so he could shift up on to his knees, tipping his body forward as he kissed her again, this time more forcefully. She responded immediately, and very soon they were both straightened up on the floor, bodies pressed together, his hands in her hair and her tongue in his mouth. Jesse was inundated by her perfume, something citrusy with notes of spice that tickled his nose, and he breathed it in deeply so he could let it flow through him. But he could smell her underneath it, also, and that was the scent he dwelled in, that mix of feminine heat and urgency with a floral residue on her skin, remnants of her bath soap making him think of how clean she felt. He slipped a hand under her coat, groping her hip for the tee of her panties, but finding only warm flesh.  Jesse moved his fingers over a few inches and suddenly it was like a zap of electricity to his balls. He moaned in her mouth with relief.

 

Skyler took it as a sign to progress things forward, for the next second he could feel her hands gripping the hem of his tee-shirt, tugging it upward. Instantly, he grabbed her wrists and held them down, keeping his shirt in place.

 

“No.” He could only look at her chin when he said it, afraid to see the look of pity that would surely appear in her eyes, yet the panic of the moment was already subsiding, which he took as a good thing.

 

Skyler made an exasperated sound in her throat, sitting back on her heels. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous. If you don’t want to—“

 

“ _No_ , that’s not what I meant,” he quickly corrected. “Just … the shirt stays on.”

 

She eyed him with bafflement, and he felt every bit the pussy. He may as well have been a teenage girl getting felt up for the first time on her prom date. But at least he hadn’t broken out into a sweat yet, so he held her wrists firmly until she nodded her head in assent.

 

By the time they got his pants off, Jesse was definitely invested in the moment. Her jacket stayed on, but Skyler had unzipped it so that he could hold it open, his hands touching her everywhere he could. He let her straddle him as he pressed his face between her breasts and breathed in so deeply he felt lightheaded. As soon as he was inside her, he felt the tears sting his eyes but he held them back, holding his breath and concentrating hard so that he could keep his emotions in check. Skyler stayed silent, but he remembered her voice from that afternoon, already seeming like it had happened days ago. The way she had spoken to him had been more comfort than Jesse had experienced in a long time, and as he heard her in his head, while the woman in front of him breathed heavy with every movement, he realized that it wasn’t the sexual release that he was desperate for, but simply the touch of another person making him feel whole and human again.

 

When Skyler came, he felt it, and he held her tighter in his arms as she tried to muffle her groans into his neck. It was all that he had needed, really, just hearing her. He kept holding on to her even as she tried to untangle herself from his grip. He blinked into her face as if he’d just awakened from a dream. A really nice dream. Skyler looked down, surprised.

 

“Oh. Are you not … done? Do you need me to help?”

 

He cleared his throat, feeling stupid again. “Um … don’t worry about it. It’ll go away in a bit.”

 

“But don’t you want me to …” She was bordering on concerned at this point, and Jesse figured it was a good time for good nights.

 

“Nah, it’s fine. Like, so not a problem. You should—you know, better get back. Before your sister wakes up, or whatever.”

 

It seemed it was the _whatever_ that got Skyler moving. She stood up, zipping her coat in one smooth movement, as if she’d just had her nails done and was ready to move on with the remainder of her day. He supposed that was unfair—Skyler wasn’t that cold, just unsentimental.

 

As she tiptoed to the door, Jesse stood up, too, quickly pulling up his sweatpants. He moved quickly and silently to reach her before she could leave, pressing his hand to the door to keep her from opening it.

 

“Hey,” he whispered. “I, uh, … that was _really …_ ” What was he going to say? It was _nice_ , it was _swell?_   “Just, you know, thank you. For coming in here. I’m sorry I was being a jerk.” It might not have meant anything to Skyler, but it meant something to him, and he needed her to know that.

Skyler watched him for a beat before nodding, her expression once again a mixture of things that he couldn’t identify. She leaned over and kissed him lightly and he felt the knot in his chest return, sort of wishing that she would stay with him the whole night, the way Marie had done the night before. Then he remembered that he had a dick in his pants, and that he really needed to stop acting like a little bitch. He gulped as he stepped away from her, letting her sneak back to the other room.

 

“See you in the morning,” she whispered in reply, and then she was gone.

 

Jesse pressed his forehead to the door, already missing her scent.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author has given up on figuring out indentations or tab buttons.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a doozy, so hold on to your hats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings. The author sincerely hopes that everyone had a very happy holiday. It's been a busy one, but the author _juuuuuuust_ managed to get this done in time. 
> 
> The author would also like to take this time to solicit any offers for some beta work. It's getting to the point where another set of eyes has become almost necessary before posting. The author would like to thank falafelfiction again for her valuable insight. If anyone notices any mistakes or typos, please feel free to let the author know.
> 
> If there are any tags that this fic should really require, do feel free to make suggestions. All comments have been very welcomed and appreciated.

 

**_Chapter 7_ **

****

He could hear the clanging again, snapping him into consciousness.

 

                _“Wake up, ya little pussy.” Metal pounding on metal, the bars atop his head ringing loudly. The hands on his throat. Then pain under his arms while being tugged up the ladder like a sack of wet laundry, his head smashing into the rungs. Bag over his head smothering him with its rancid odor. The heavy, echoing thud of the fluorescents coming on overhead._

_“C’mon, Pinkman, time to pay the rent.”_

                Jesse sat up with a gasp, the air swooshing back in his lungs as if he’d been pinned underwater and had just broken the surface. He darted his eyes around in a panic as his vision adjusted, seeing the light in the window first. The white bodies in his paintings were like a crowd of blank faces watching him from around the room. Jesse took another deep breath, trying to slow down his heart thumping wildly. He was in his studio, not back there, not stuck in some cage. He patted his sweatpants reflexively, wanting the time, before remembering that they didn’t have pockets and that he no longer carried a phone. He heard murmurs out in the living room. Jesse gaped at the door, recalling that he still had guests.

 

                He glanced over his shoulder at the window again. It wasn’t very bright out, the lack of birds warbling making it feel early. He speculated on how long the women had been up.  And then he remembered.

 

 Skyler.

 

                _Shit_. He put the heels of his hands over his eyes, pressing hard enough to see shapes twirling in the blackness. What had he been thinking? Having sex with Mr. White’s wife was never going to be a good idea, but it was an incredibly _bad_ one with the mix he had in his house. This was a prime example of taking a fucked up situation and making it even _more_ fucked up so as to make it practically insurmountable. It seemed to be his special power. Like the superhero characters he used to draw with their lame abilities, only, unlike his alter ego, Rewindo, this was not something he could undo. _More like Retardo,_ Skinny Pete’s voice cracked.  He wondered if this was a pattern he would ever break.

 

                He took another long, soldiering breath. He’d just have to deal with it, whatever happened. Hopefully, the women would be on their way soon, back to Albuquerque with their world righted once more, no longer in need of whatever he was functioning as for them. Because even while he knew the Lambert sisters were using him, and even though he was letting them, it didn’t make the transaction go down any easier. Jesse was _used_ to being used, but he couldn’t afford to lose any more pieces of himself in the trade-offs. There wasn’t a whole lot left.

 

                Walking to the door, hunched over with the cold and the aches of old wounds, he prepared himself for one more day of them before grabbing the knob and turning, repeating little mantras in his head to bolster his determination. As he shuffled towards the kitchen, he saw the sisters sitting on the couch with coffee already, Skyler appearing to console her sister with an arm around Marie’s shoulder. Both of them stopped talking and took notice of him.

 

                “Uh, good morning,” he croaked, desperate for a cigarette or coffee, whichever he got to first.

 

                Skyler reached for her mug, her back to him, but Marie was wearing one of her pained expressions, like he’d just told her to fuck off, instead. He paused mid-step.

 

                “You ladies sleep okay?” he asked with concern. He expected Skyler to give him a raised eyebrow at that, but she didn’t even glance in his direction.

 

                “Did _you_ sleep okay, Jesse?” Marie returned, her face suggesting that she knew he hadn’t. He instantly felt paranoid, wondering if perhaps he’d been making sounds or yelling out during his nightmare.

 

                “Um, yes?” She didn’t look as if she believed him. “Any more coffee in the pot?” He stepped into the kitchen with a new dread in his belly. He didn’t need Marie sweating him with more psychiatric questions. But as he pulled down a cup out of his cupboard, Marie was suddenly behind him, and he spun around with eyes wide, clutching the cup to his chest like a talisman to ward off evil. Marie seemed even more upset, almost close to tears.

 

                “Jesse. I would like it very much if you put some serious consideration into my offer,” she told him solemnly.

 

                “Offer? What are you talking about?” He put the cup behind him on the counter, really needing his coffee intake, but trying to give her his attention. “When did you make me an offer?”

 

                “For the therapist. I really think it would be … beneficial for you. And I want to help. I wish you would let me help you.”

 

                _Jesus Christ, Marie._ He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth. It was way too early for this. “You know, that’s real generous and all,” he started, trying not to snarl. “But it’s not necessary. You need to just forget about me, okay?”

 

                “I can’t.” Marie’s plaintive tone made him open his eyes. She looked so miserable, like she was barely keeping it together. For a lingering second, Jesse imagined that Skyler had told her, had given Marie the ignominious news that she’d slept with him. But that didn’t seem possible. From what he knew of Walt’s wife, and from what he’d observed between the sisters, it didn’t seem like a move Skyler would have even considered.  He felt pretty sure that Skyler would share such a detail with absolutely no one.

 

                “Can I make you breakfast?” He decided it best to try another tack. “I make a mean _huevos rancheros_.” Jesse sidestepped her to make his way to the fridge. “I think I got some salsa left.”

 

                Skyler had stepped up to the archway, her shoulder against the wall, as she surveyed the scene. Jesse flashed her a look of confusion as he blocked Marie en route, the question in his scrunched eyebrows as he sought an answer to her sister’s strange behavior. Skyler responded by staring down to her shoes. He stilled, noting her glaring dismissal before poking his head into his refrigerator, scowling as he scanned the shelves. Yeah, this was shaping up to be a great morning, he could feel it already.

 

                “Ah, here we go. _Huevos_ it is.” He grabbed the jar and a carton of eggs, rummaging around for the rest of the ingredients. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have it served, courtesy of Virginia Hennings’ special recipe.”

 

                When he turned around, Marie still had that weepy exterior, her hand pressed to her throat as if he’d said something poignant and it was choking her up. He had no idea where all of this lachrymosity was coming from.

 

                “Marie? You good with that?”

                                                                                                                       

                Instead of answering, she came up close and then put her arms around him, the side of her face pressed to his collarbone. Jesse held the eggs and salsa outstretched from her body, unwilling to close his arms around her for fear of unleashing the full extent of her sorrow. He was getting very freaked out.

 

                “Sweetie, what’s going on?” Skyler’s concerned voice made him turn to her, Marie still clinging to him. He tried again to meet her eyes and get some sort of reaction from her, a sign in her face that might explain the shift in her sister’s mood since last night. “Marie, come on, let’s sit down. I’ll get you something to calm your nerves. Maybe we should try the tea, instead?” She tried to pull Marie from Jesse but the younger woman held on.

 

                “I’m _calm,_ Skyler. Just leave it … leave it _be,_ ” and then she really did start crying. And it wasn’t just a little sniffle, but Marie began to bawl, alarming Jesse so badly he was ready to make a run for his front door.

 

                “Yo, what am I supposed to do?” he begged Skyler, his arms still widespread, with the eggs and jar getting heavier every minute. Skyler’s dismay mirrored his when she glanced at him, but then she was making another attempt to detach Marie from his body.

 

                “Honey, I’m really worried about you now. Are you going to tell me what’s happening here? Is this about Hank?”

 

                At first Marie shook her head no into his shoulder, but after another moment, she lifted her head and nodded affirmatively. She stepped back from Jesse, staring at his chest with her hands wrapped to his biceps.

 

                “Yes. Yes, I think that Hank’s … last moments are catching up to me. It’s … it’s more real now. The way Jesse described it. I could see it happen in a—a bad dream. It must have been so … _awful_ being there and witnessing that. Those men,” her voice trembled again as her face fell. “They were so _awful._ And Walt .. _._ ” Her body doubled over, arms across her stomach, as she dissolved into grievous sobs.

 

                Skyler was still clutching Marie by the shoulders and she started to move her away, heading them towards the living room. Marie allowed herself to be led, but she could barely see where she was going through her tears. Jesse grabbed some paper towels from the roll hanging under his cupboard and wadded them up, handing them off to Skyler so she could properly tend to her. It was all very disconcerting, but the sound of Holly crying from the bedroom gave him a perfect exit.

 

                “Oh, hey, why don’t you let me go get her. You just take care of your sister,” he told Skyler, not even waiting for her consent before he hustled towards his room. He couldn’t be around that much emotion without it starting a chain reaction in his own frangible system.

 

When he opened the bedroom door, he saw Holly sitting up in his bed, pouting and rubbing her eyes with little fists. As soon as she saw him, she instantly reached for him, her expectation clear. Jesse picked her up with some relief. The little girl’s needs were something he could understand, not the mercurial abstraction of whims and demands that the women in the other room continued to assail him with.

 

“ _You_ want some _huevos_ , don’t you, Holly? We just need to get you some clean diapers and some food and you are golden, huh? Nice and uncomplicated.”  He shifted her on his hip so he could bend down to pick up the diaper bag sitting in front of his bedside drawers. Lifting it up, he caught sight of the corner of his other sketch pad just barely poking out from under the bed. Jesse froze, all the breath in his lungs trapped in his throat for an instant. He was absolutely certain he hadn’t left it that close to the edge.

 

                Holly kicked at him feebly, eager to get moving, and Jesse stirred from his spot, hauling the bag over his shoulder as he kicked the pad hard at the binding. He heard it skate across the wood, hopefully landing somewhere in the middle of the floor. The sudden picture in his head of Marie looking at _these_ sketches was making him ill, the piano wire in his gut cranking so tight it wouldn’t have surprised him if he’d heard a snap, his insides slicing to shreds. But he felt numb as he moved to the doorway, not even able to imagine how he was supposed to look at either of them again with this revelation. Jesse needed them out of his house, and he needed them gone as soon as possible.

                In the few seconds it took him to get to where the women sat, his numbness was falling away to fury. He set Holly down in front of her mother and the bag on his coffee table then kept moving towards the door, all without eyeing them once. He couldn’t breathe. Jesse had to get outside or he would suffocate.

 

                “Jesse, are you going somewhere?” Marie asked as he pushed his feet into his boots, not bothering to tie the laces before he was slipping on his coat.

 

                He grabbed his keys off the desk, started to leave, and then threw them back, afraid to answer her, and afraid to get in a moving vehicle. He needed a walk—that was his best course of action—to clear his head and calm down, but when Marie called his name again, he stalled. He didn’t want her realizing that he was aware of what had distressed her. The images in his drawings came to him in a tumble and he shook his head to scatter them.

 

                “Um, I, uh … need to do something. I’ll be back in a little bit. Eat whatever you want.” Jesse spoke quickly, as he fit his cap to his head.

 

                He didn’t wait for them to reply, but raced out of the door and jogged down the steps into the fresh snow, continuing a path around the side of the house until he was past his shed and in the clearing of a backyard. The rows of trees in front of him were like a phalanx of soldiers barring entrance into the forest, but he hunched his shoulders around his ears and strode steadfast into the breach between the trunks, the powdered branches overhead swaying with the heaviness of their load. The cold stung his face, but he welcomed it. He needed to be slapped around a bit, some force to remind him what a fuck-up he was once again, and it might as well be the nature around him waking him up to the bitter realities of his life. Certainly no one back in his house was going to do it.

 

                Jesse broke into a run. Or as close to one as he could manage while trudging through snow up to his ankles—his lungs were being squeezed in a vise and the sound of his wheezing broke through the eerie silence. He kept his eyes to the ground, the white floor moving forward like a snake winding around rocks in the desert. He ran from everything: the sisters, his nightmares, the drawings of his nightmares, the voices that wouldn’t leave him, the guilt and the recriminations, from civilization, even from his comforts. He had nothing to run _to_ with the exception his freedom, the one thing that he clung to with everything he had left. And the sisters were a threat to that, no matter what they promised. He should have kicked them out as soon as he’d had the chip in his hands. But then there had been Skyler’s cold front, the variable that he couldn’t decipher. Jesse didn’t want to be affected by her, but he felt as if it had already happened, that she’d somehow gotten under his skin in the same way that Mr. White had snuck through his defenses. It wasn’t fair; he shouldn’t have to go through that turmoil again.

 

                Marie was handful enough. Her grief had been so baldly etched in her entire frame when he’d first seen her that he’d succumbed easily, but now she was getting pushy and intrusive in a manner that he couldn’t deflect as readily as he wished. Talk about a test of wills. He wasn’t strong enough to combat either of them, let alone both at the same time. Her violation of his privacy was not something he could excuse, nor was he about to let her see the repercussions that it wrought. Jesse had to be smart. He had to be cool and detached, to let their swirl of madness roll off of him like the crashing waves of the surf onto glass. He envisioned the lab the way it had looked behind his mask, that environment shrunk down to the fishbowl in front of him, and that singular focus keeping him glued to the task at hand. Being cocooned in his Tychem suit had been hot as fuck, but he’d always felt safe in it. He’d grown to love that feeling of knowing toxic substances were just bouncing off of him, making him feel impervious to danger for the brief time they were in there, even though, statistically, it was the most dangerous place he spent his days. But for Jesse, it had really been the inside of his head that had been the most treacherous.

 

                He stopped and took in several gusts of breath, propping his hands on bent knees. Then he dropped to the ground, disregarding the chill of the snow, and rolled himself on to his back so he could stare up at the sky. The towering treetops shone with the oncoming light of the morning. Clouds moved by in a hurry, like traffic, as if they were being chased away by the dawn. All was silent and still, just his labored breathing mixing with the sound of wind whistling between firs. He gulped a few times, his eyes beginning to burn as they watered from the temperature. This was the best he could hope for. Silence. Being still. _Kid, you need to calm down before you give me heartburn._ He closed his eyes, reaching for what Mike could instill. The old man had been as cold-blooded a killer as he’d ever seen, but he had also been a pillar of stability and stoicism, the very essence of cool. Jesse had aspired to that level of impassivity so fiercely, but there was always something to trip him up, most notably Mr. White’s constant temper tantrums, or nasty moods, where Jesse always seemed to be his favorite target. He thought about Schrader and Skyler insisting that Walt had cared for him and laughed aloud into the quiet space. The echo of it cracked through the forest, making him feel dwarfed by his surroundings.

 

                After a while, he sat up, his sight going fuzzy for a moment. Jesse blinked it away then felt in his pockets for his gloves, quickly putting them on over freezing hands. He could deal with this. He’d give the sisters one more opportunity for closure, but then he’d calmly tell them it was time to go. He needed to make sure every last thread of their trip out here was secured, that no one else would know of his whereabouts besides this mysterious guy they’d hired. Maybe it was time to check in with Badger and see if there was any news he should know about. _Be smart, yo._ He could do this.

 

                By the time he got back in his house, Marie was in the kitchen and Skyler was at the table feeding Holly her breakfast, their bags and purses all gathered together on the couch. She glanced up as he came in the door, then back on her daughter with her jaw clenched. He had some logs in his arms from the shed, and he walked over to the hearth to load them on top of a diminished pile. Marie called out behind him as he fed some wood into the fireplace.

 

               “Jesse, are you hungry?” He couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes as he added kindling to the burgeoning flames, a dry laugh in his throat. She reminded him of the way his mother would always ask about his most basic needs, even when they were furious with each other.

 

               “I’m good,” he replied, before standing up and turning to face them. “Glad you’re so comfortable in my kitchen, yo. It doesn’t normally get used this much.”

 

               She stood in the archway with a dishtowel in her hands, looking much better than she had earlier, so at least he didn’t have to put up with more waterworks. “Well, at least let me get you some coffee. Or the tea? I’m having a cup myself. It’s really nice. Soothing.”

 

                “Yeah, sure,” he said, toeing off his boots. “Thanks.”

 

                 He made his way to the dining room table nervously, biting his lip as he sat at the opposite end of Skyler. She was wiping Holly’s face, and Holly was having none of it, but he could feel her specifically _avoiding_ looking in his direction. It suddenly became a challenge, making her acknowledge him. He leaned forward across the table, his hands splayed.

 

                “So… I guess you ladies will be heading home today? Now that, you know … you got your, _whatever_.” He got another sharp, swift glance from Skyler’s end before Marie walked over to where he sat with tea in hand.

 

                “I was thinking tomorrow, most likely. We need to get online back at the hotel to figure it out. Skyler thinks we should leave the car at the airport and fly home,” she said as she handed him the cup, sliding into the seat next to him. Her eyes were still red from her crying, but they were big and penetrating as she stared into his. “We’ll worry about the details later. But it looks like you’re stuck with us for one more day. Any suggestions?”

 

                “Well, I got a project I’ve been working on that I’d like to get back to. I’m not really the best company, anyway. You should chill back in your rooms. Let the kid watch some tv.” He took a sip of his tea, playing it cool. She had blown her chance for any more bonding.

 

                “Oh.” Marie tried not to look disappointed, but failed. “I … I wouldn’t mind a shower before that long drive. I noticed you don’t have a shower curtain in your bathroom, though.”

 

                 “I don’t take showers,” he mumbled, taking another sip so he didn’t have to address her.

 

                “Really? What are you, one of those bath people? They’re so ... undignified. I don’t know how you or Skyler can stand it; after the first few minutes, you’re just sitting in lukewarm water with all of your dirt and germs kind of floating around you.”

 

                “Nah, bubble baths are the bomb, man. And you gotta make sure the water is _super hot_ at the beginning. Light up a couple of candles. It’s like, totally relaxing.”

 

                Skyler seemed to perk up at that, eyeing him over with the beginnings of a smirk, but then she was busying herself with getting Holly out of her chair, the little girl running towards Jesse with a big grin. He pushed his seat back so she could slap her hands on his thigh, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she attempted to climb up to his lap. He pulled her up and twisted her so she could sit with him and her grubby fingers took hold of his beard.

 

                “Sky, I think it’s official. Your daughter is in love,” Marie said, but Skyler was fiddling with her bags, her back to them.

 

                “Why am I not surprised,” she answered sardonically, but the comment didn’t sound anything like a compliment to Jesse.

 

                “But really,” Marie went on, “you don’t have something I could hang from the bar? I’d really love to, you know, just wash up before we head back into town. And … it would be nice if we could … well, I don’t want to get in your way or anything, but … isn’t there anything…?” She gave him a wan smile, her eyes dewy again, the unspoken request hanging over them both. “Can you show us this project you’re working on?”

 

                 Jesse sighed. “Seriously? You are, like, the most persistent person I have ever met.” His anger was already flat-lining. He didn’t even feel like punishing her anymore. After all, it was hard to dwell in one’s outrage when there was a three year old playing with your hair. What was done was nothing he could change. Holly stood up on his lap and patted his head, breathing into his ear. “ _Seerusly,”_ she mimicked. He put a hand above her bottom to keep her upright, even though her shoes were digging into the flesh and bone of his legs. She was a balm to his feverish mood, the calm settling over him as he contemplated how much more of Holly’s keepers he was willing to indulge on her behalf.

 

                 Marie took a hold of his hand, wrapping hers tightly around his knuckles. “I just want to spend a little more time here, Jesse, if that’s okay.” She said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure if Skyler had even heard her; she seemed to take no notice of her sister’s request. He looked to Holly.

 

                 “How about a snowman? You wanna build a snowman, Holly?” The little girl nodded her head enthusiastically, although he doubted she even knew what he was talking about. They never got much snow in the New Mexico valley. He stood up with her in his arm, releasing Marie’s grip. “I have some extra towels that I can probably tie on the bars, if you want. It should work. You take your shower, me and Holly, we’re going to make a snowman,” he paused as Skyler sat down to watch them with arms crossed. “Maybe Holly’s mom will come join us. What do you think, Holly?”

 

                 “Mommy!” she shouted. “Makin’ a _snoseman_ , mommy.” Skyler gave her daughter a strained smile.

 

                 “It’s not even seven, yet,” she said. “Mommy might need some more coffee, first.”

 

                 “Well, Mommy can take a whole thermos of it outside with us, if she wants,” he countered.

 

                  Her smile softened. “Maybe Mommy will do that. But she needs to get Holly bundled up first.”

 

                 “Yeah, sure thing.” He spoke to Marie. “You want me to get you set up while they get ready?” But Marie’s face was cloudy, her lips pursed. She nodded to him and then promptly turned on her heel and headed to the bathroom, picking up her purse along the way. Jesse sighed again. These women were making him nuts.

 

                 He put Holly on the ground. “Okay, go get ready. We gotta get nice and warm for the snow, ‘kay? It’s, like, really, really cold stuff. And snowmen like to start snowball fights, sometimes.” She ran to her mother, whose smile was getting more amused, but whose gaze was still occupied elsewhere.

 

                  Jesse strode into his bathroom to find Marie staring pensively at the tiles, with her arms folded just under her breasts. She was a pretty woman, there was no doubt about that, but he could see how she ended up with an oaf like Schrader. All that alpha-male crap was probably right where she lived, needing a tough guy that she could boss around, but who went out and acted the role of macho dumbass to everyone else. He thought about women’s relationships with their fathers, how her stories made him understand why she would want someone that made her feel safe but not dominated, how even Skyler’s choices made a little more sense in relation to her past. It was a small room, but he moved lithely around her to open up the bottom cupboard under the sink, dragging out a few of his bigger towels.

 

                 “So, I’m just going to bunch them up here, to catch most of the spray. I never turn the shower head on, so it might be kinda slow, at first. I made sure the pipes didn’t freeze, though.” He took off his coat and let it drop to the ground, as he reached up to knot the first corner to the bar that came out of the wall. It was an old-fashioned bathtub, the kind with clawed feet, and the shower rod was really a halo suspended in air. The rings were left over from whomever the Doc had had living here last.

 

                 “Why don’t you like showers, Jesse? Really.” Marie spoke in a monotone, which made it all the more disturbing. He stopped what he was doing, the anger flaring again, but he was finally ready to stare her down.

 

                  “You really wanna know?” he asked her, his voice low and dangerous. “You wanna hear the gory details, Marie?” She faced him, her eyes widening with something approaching fear, yet he waited until she feebly raised her shoulders in a weak shrug.

                  “See, I don’t think you do. I think you wanna believe that you can fix everything, but you know, deep down, that you can’t. Not really. And if you don’t really want to face the whole truth, then you need to stop sticking your nose into other people’s business.” Her eyes shone wetly, yet they remained glued to his. She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, and he watched in fascination as her throat bobbed with her swallow.

 

                  “You want me to tell you how I killed people, Marie? How I strangled a man to death with my bare hands? Because I did. _I did that_. Choked the life right out of him until I could hear his neck snap like a twig under my boot. And going to see a shrink isn’t going to change that fact. So maybe … maybe it’s time to stop asking questions. You feelin’ me?” 

 

                   Marie had pressed her lips tightly inward, but she nodded vigorously in answer. Her arms were now down at her sides, her hands closed into fists. There was still a part of him that wanted to hug her – to hold her the way Walt had held him in the desert – in some sick version of comfort. But instead he finished his task, tying the towels to the bar like some kind of medieval banners hanging on the walls of a fortress. He left when he was done, fitting his coat back on and fishing for his gloves as he prepared to build bodies out of snow. It was a lot more satisfactory than tearing them down.

 

 

 

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

 

By the time the sun had come peeking out, they were already rolling the head. Holly was quite the industrious worker, following Jesse wherever he went and wanting to be a part of his entire packing process. He showed her how to get the snowball going, and when they had the snowman’s head ready, he lifted her up while she affixed it with her mother’s help. It was like they’d just created the David statue, the way she carried on.  When she put the carrot into the top of the head instead of where his nose should have been, Jesse let out a robust laugh. She stuck it in like a spear, the pointy end disappearing into the ice.

 

“Holly, that’s an interesting place for a nose,” he told her.

 

“It’s more like a little hat. Or maybe he’s got a bump on his head,” Skyler said. She was almost jovial, and Jesse appreciated how it changed her face, her high cheekbones like pink plums in the cold.

“Yeah, it’s like when you shave your head, and you get a zit right there,” he pointed to a spot on his crown, “and it feels so weird, but you can’t stop messing with it.” He rubbed an area of his knit hat, trying to recall the feel of the pate of his head when he’d had it shorn. He’d never gone as hairless as Walt and Mike, but it had felt like a necessary initiation rite after Gale. He had become another bald dude who killed people. Jesse had no plans to shave his head ever again.

 

Skyler gave him a once over. “You look better with a full head of hair,” she told him. “A lot more … I don’t know, healthy.”

 

“Yeah, I feel majorly healthy,” he snarked, feeling like a jerk the moment he said it. She was trying to make an effort.

 

“Well … it looks good. No matter how you may feel inside, you look stronger. More solid. You were this waif when I first laid eyes on you. Even that time at my house … the old house. Still scrawny, and maybe a little scared. You were the quintessential fish out of water. It would have been funny if the evening hadn’t been so cringe-worthy.”

 

“Uh, I guess.” She had a strange sense of humor. That night had been awful.  “Although, I was definitely scared. _You_ scared the shit out of me.” He shook his head. “Aw, damn, my bad, Holly. I’m gonna have to wash my mouth out with soap, huh?”

 

“Here. Jessjake need soap?” Holly handed him the rocks they had collected for snowman eyes.

 

“Why, thank you so much,” he said as palmed them.

 

Skyler took in their creation with a critical eye. “He needs some branches for his arms,” she said, scanning the ground around her. For the next few minutes, they gathered more materials and added each feature with a gathering sense of excitement. Jesse hadn’t felt this kind of ease in forever, and it mystified him how he could fall into such a contented state doing something so innocent when a little more than an hour ago he was ready to have a breakdown.

 

When they finished adorning their snowman, Jesse bent to the ground and cupped some more snow in his hands. “Holly, come here and look, I gotta show you this,” he called. She came running over to peer into his hands, but as soon as her face was close enough, Jesse popped them upward. Holly screamed in surprise, snow clinging to her eyelashes and cheeks as she beamed at him. She ran off to scoop up some snow of her own, quickly turning foot so she could come back and shove it in his face.

 

“Oh, it’s on now,” he warned her, breaking into a grin. He fell to his knees to get more ammunition, Holly fleeing from him in trailing, giddy giggles, but just as he was about to stand up and chase her, he got hit with a snowball square in the temple. He looked up with his mouth agape. Skyler was already packing another one in her hands.

 

“You are going down!” he yelled, almost letting a _bitch_ fly in his enthusiasm, then ran in the other direction to take cover. He rounded the birdbath to make it his home base, digging furiously into the snow to get things started. Another one hit him in the back of the neck, Holly’s squeal following the sensation of ice on warm skin, and he turned to see Skyler helping her daughter form another ball. He slapped one together and shot it off, the missile hitting its target at her shoulder.

 

“Hey! No fair, I’ve got a toddler here!” Skyler laughed, the sound of it making Jesse’s head swim for a moment. She had Holly pat down the snowball in her hands and then whispered in her daughter’s ear, sending her towards Jesse with a devilish grin.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he cautioned to Holly, throwing a hand up as she bore down on him. The little girl ran right up to him before she flung it, the bulk of it falling to the ground while snow sprayed up at them both. He bent to lift her up by the waist, spinning her around in the air. Holly was beside herself with elation.

 

“I’ve got you now, Holly, gonna keep you forever!” He twirled them around until they were both dizzy, dropping on his ass as Holly crumpled in his lap. Skyler trudged over to them.

 

“I think Holly is the clear winner here,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t know she had a ringer in her camp,” he teased. “What are you, like Matt Magill? That’s a good arm there.” She came over to where they sat, surprising him when she slipped a hand behind his neck.

 

“Ooh, I did get you pretty good in the back, huh? Got some snow under your collar.” She scooped a handful of the powder from where it had clumped cold and wet to his skin and tossed it to the ground. Just the brief touch of her gloved hand made him shiver, his anticipation like a growing fever.

 

They heard the door squeak and all three of them looked up to see Marie step out on the porch. She had a throw wrapped around her shoulders, another mug cupped between her hands as she sat down to watch them.

 

“Sweetie, you feel better?” Skyler called to her. Marie nodded blankly and sipped her drink, looking like the Zoloft poster child. Skyler walked over to put a hand to her sister’s lank tresses. “Hon, your hair is still wet. You’re going to get sick sitting out here with damp hair, get back inside.”

 

“Jesse doesn’t have a blowdryer,” Marie said weakly, as if she had no other option but to sit on his stoop and freeze to death.

 

“Don’t really need one,” he explained. “You should put on a hat, though; keep your head warm. I got one you can borrow.” Holly had scuttled off his lap and ran to play with more snow.

 

“No, I’m fine,” Marie said, staring off into space.  She hunched over her cup for another slurp of tea.

 

Skyler gave him an expectant look, prompting him with her eyebrows. “Um, I’ll get it for you anyway,” he said, quickly standing up to brush off his knees and behind. Jesse tried to steer clear of Marie as he made his way up the steps, but there wasn’t a lot of space. She leaned far to one side to let him pass, as if she feared him brushing against her. When he came back out with the extra cap in his hand, Skyler gave him an approving smile, and he felt his chest lightened by her gaze. He dropped the hat in Marie’s lap on his way back down, eager to get back to snow fights and anything that made Skyler give him more smiles like that one.

 

But Marie held the cap in her hand as if she hadn’t the faintest idea what it was for, grimacing at it the way one might regard a dead rat.

 

“Marie? Do you want to get your coat on and have some fun with us? You can be on Jesse’s team against me and Holly. What do you think? It’s getting warmer now that the sun is out.”

 

“I can’t be on Jesse’s team,” she declared listlessly, taking another sip from her mug as she set his cap on the floor behind her. “I’ll just watch from here.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. And things had been going so well. He should have expected that it wouldn’t last long. He sought out Skyler to give her a shake of his head, the two of them sharing an understanding of how dramatic her sister could be, but he was surprised to find her staring at him with a creeping suspicion. He frowned.

 

Skyler marched up the steps and sat down by her sister, slipping an arm across the other woman’s back and shoulder. “Hon, are you sure you’re alright? What’s going on with you?”

 

“I’m just … I’m really tired,” Marie said, her voice tremulous as she put a hand across her eyes. “Jesse is right. We should go back to the hotel and leave him alone. I … I think I just need to go home.” She began weeping once more and her shoulders shook with her misery as she leaned across her lap. Skyler gaped at him in alarm.

 

“What the hell did you to her?” she accused.

 

She might as well have kicked him in the balls, it would have been less painful. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything,” he sneered.

 

“Then why is she like this? Did you say something to her?” Skyler’s voice rose as she held her sister to her tighter, shielding her from the supposedly dangerous criminal in their midst. The speed with which she’d turned on him left him reeling.

 

“You’ll have to ask your crazy sister. I don’t know jack. Maybe it’s her medication. But I’ll tell you what – the sooner you all get out of my life, the better for everybody, right? You won’t have to worry about what I might do every horrible second you’re around me. That okay with you? We all on the same page, here?”

 

He stormed off to the back of his house before she could respond, aiming to lock himself in his shed until they left. Jesse felt his body thrumming, livid with the righteous indignation of the falsely accused. Of course, it _had_ been his fault that Marie was acting like this, but she’d set things in motion as soon as she’d crossed a line by raping the sanctity of his bedroom. He couldn’t continue to let people tear him open like it was a sport, always the fox at the end of the dogs’ hunt. He opened the door to the crammed room, the smell of wood shavings instantly comforting him as he stepped inside. Jesse heard Holly call for him, but ignored it, walling himself up in the workroom where he spent a substantial amount of his time. He stepped to the workbench and pulled off the drop cloth, running a hand over the edges of the half-finished chest underneath.

 

“Jessjake?”  He heard a timid tap low on the door. “Jessejake! Wanna play in snose!”

 

Jesse felt sad for the little girl, getting caught in the middle of everyone’s shit, but he wouldn’t go to her. She started to bang a little harder. “Jessjake,” she whined. He heard footsteps crunching in the snow come up behind her.

 

“Come on, baby, Mama’s got to get you in the car.”

 

Holly put up a fuss, but her objections grew fainter as Skyler dragged her away. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, forcing himself to not feel bad about the situation. Being soft did him no favors. Ever. He reached for his circular saw. He needed to cut out the wood for the lid and this was the type of noise that he relished, the buzzing filling his head for hours. He grabbed his safety goggles hanging on the end of a peg and fit the strap over his head, removing his touque and tossing it aside.

 

He had just finished securing a plank in the vise when he heard a more forceful knock this time.  Jesse glanced up, could see Marie looking at him through the square of glass in the door. She seemed determined, her mouth set in a grim line, despite her splotchy skin and red rimmed eyes. He bent his head and turned on the saw.

When he got to the end of the cut he pulled up and shut the power off. The trimmed edge fell with a clatter and as he squatted down to pick it up, Marie’s boots strode up to where it lay. Jesse looked up in defiance. No space was sacred with this woman.

 

“What? I’m busy.”

 

Marie clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes for a moment before letting her face relax, opening them up to gaze on him with remorse. He suddenly realized she was wearing his cap, the bright yellow knit low on her forehead and the ball of fuzz slung to one side. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” she said. “I’m so sorry for everything. Can you please come out front to say goodbye? I think Holly would really like that.”

 

“ _Fine._ ” He cricked his jaw, his back teeth grinding. Jesse pulled off his goggles and threw them down, following her outside to track her back to the front yard.

 

The car door was open on the passenger side, but Holly was yelling from the back, already strapped in her booster seat. Jesse had a sudden grip of fear, the thought of them leaving becoming a depressing reality. He couldn’t understand how something that he desperately wanted was simultaneously filling him with a gut-wrenching despair now that it was actually happening. All three of them had given him emotional whiplash. Skyler slammed the trunk and came to stand in front of the car, her expression as stern as the morning she’d arrived. He couldn’t believe that they’d been here little more than forty eight hours; so much had happened in that time.

 

Marie stopped walking and turned to him. “I want to thank you, Jesse, for being honest with us. It’s … made me see a lot of things differently. You’ve been very open, and if I’ve … upset you, then please know that was _never_ my intention.”

 

Jesse didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t want to be an asshole, but he couldn’t pretend that their visit hadn’t put him through the wringer. And yet he had the gnawing feeling that there was something he needed to explain to them.

 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I hope you got your closure and everything.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward about what might come next. He recalled his thoughts in the forest. “Uh, I have your, um, _assurance_ that nobody’s gonna find out I’m here, right? This guy you bankrolled –he’s not gonna sell me out?”

 

“Your secret is safe with us,” Skyler croaked, her tone emotionless. “And the person we hired is a professional who makes it his business, and gets paid a lot of money, to keep quiet. So …” She remained rooted to the spot, and he wavered on whether he should move closer. But then Marie snaked an arm into his and made him walk with her for several more steps to the car.

 

“I’m going to give you my address and phone number, though. If you ever need anything. And you use whatever means you need to get a hold of me. I can be very stealthy, you know,” she told him earnestly.

 

“Sure, but I think I’ll be all right.” He felt jittery, wanting this to all be over, but still afraid for it to end. Perhaps he was simply a masochist. “You, uh, take care, okay?”

 

“Of course, Jesse. You, too. Please take care of yourself.”

 

As much as Marie could make him feel uncomfortable, he knew she was in a lot of pain. He nodded to her. “Yeah, sure. And uh … Marie,” he gulped, not wanting her to get teary anymore but feeling the need to say it. “I, uh—I’m sorry about your husband. Really. I’m sorry I didn’t come to him sooner, ya know? Would have saved everyone a lot of … well, maybe everything wouldn’t have been so fucked.”

 

Marie nodded back, her face taut as she tried to hold back her anguish.  She hesitated for a moment before suddenly embracing him. It was only for a split second before she stepped back, crossing her arms as she moved to sit in her seat. She closed the door and stared straight ahead. Jesse opened Holly’s door and poked his head in.

 

“Hey, little lady, you be good, alright?” He took hold of one of her fingers as she reached for him, her hands outstretched as she groaned with her insistence.

“Mommy, Jessjake, too. Jessjake come, too,” Holly complained. He caressed her cheek, attempting to soothe her.

 

“It’s okay. Jessjake’s gotta stay at home and take care of Mr. Snowman. _You_ get to fly in a plane. The mountains are gonna look so awesome from the air, just you wait.” Jesse tousled her hair and stepped back, closing the door as she whined.

 

He stood to face Skyler.  She stuck out her hand stiffly. Jesse stared at her palm and then to her before he shook it. It was something Walt would do.

 

“Thank you. For everything,” she said. Then without another word she walked to her side of the car. The whine of her door as it opened made him wince. That was it, then. He would never see Walt’s family again. She started the engine and soon the car was backing out to curve around the bed of Jesse’s truck. Skyler put the BMW into drive and it smoothly straightened out, the front of it heading down his driveway to make its way to the road. He watched it go, not sure what he was meant to be feeling. The brake light started blinking on the right, and then the car turned, disappearing from view.

 

He stood in place for a while, just staring at the spot where they’d been. He heard a caw and scanned the sky, seeing two falcons circling overhead. Jesse saw them a lot, wondering, on occasion, if they’d followed him from New Mexico. He eventually walked back to the house, no longer interested in working on the chest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The first hour after they’d gone was quiet. Like, really quiet.

 

                Jesse felt like it hadn’t been this hushed in his house for days. He moved around the rooms aimlessly, not sure what he was supposed to be doing anymore. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t in the mood to paint, he was just kind of there. He went to find his mp3 and put the speaker buds in his ears, needing some noise to keep his mind from thinking.

 

                The second and third hours were a little more difficult. He was supremely restless by then, the need to be doing something making him crazy but everything he attempted completely fruitless. Jesse couldn’t concentrate for shit, the conversations he’d had with the sisters playing back in his thoughts. Rinse, repeat. Then flashes of Skyler’s body would come out of nowhere, but not like the good kind that he could masturbate to, more like the ones that reminded him just how pathetic he had become.

 

                By the fifth hour, he was wearing a groove into his carpet, walking from one end of his living room to the other as he waved his arms around having imaginary discussions with all kinds of people. First it was Skyler, then it was Hank, then his mother, and then, unsurprisingly, he found himself yelling at Walt for fucking everybody up so much that even his survivors couldn’t be normal around each other. He chain smoked the day away until he had a heaping pile of butts in his fireplace, like some kind of tribute to everyone that had ever fucked him over.

 

                Once it grew dark, he was positively manic. He couldn’t figure out what Skyler’s game had been. Why’d she screw him? Had it been some sort of payback? To make him feel things and then trash those feelings to bits? That was some Gus-level fuckery, right there, if that had been the case. Jesse sat in his stuffed chair, his leg jiggling a mile a minute and another cigarette pinched between nicotine-stained fingers, while he worked through every scenario in his head. Was this the universe paying him back some more for all the shit he’d done? Now he was getting punished for every girl he’d boned and then never called back? What the hell was happening to him? Why did he even care? He wished he could swing by the church again, but he didn’t think Father Thomas would still be there, and he’d already gone to confession the day before, after his freak-out at the hotel. He thought about where he’d gone to later, the stop he’d made at the bar. He needed a drink. Fuck it, he needed some goddamn _meth._ He’d settle for weed, at this point. Just fucking anything to turn his brain _off_.

 

                He tried to turn in early, thinking that maybe sleep would do the trick. But he laid there staring at the ceiling as though it would provide him with an answer scrawled across the white plaster if he looked long and hard enough. Jesse reviewed the masturbation option again, wondering if he’d be capable in this state. Suddenly, he bolted upright and twisted around on his bed, grabbing the knob of his bedside drawer to slide it open. Staring at the leather bracelets, he considered, for one crazy moment, digging out one of his burners and calling Katya. He still had her number, as if he’d known he’d be this desperate one day. He’d let her do whatever fucked up shit she wanted with him if it would dull the voices screaming in his head.

 

                It took him a few seconds to remember the many weeks he had spent to get her to stop following him around, his crazy Russian stalker. He didn’t need to repeat that scene. Jesse heaved a sigh in aggravation, pushing his fingers around the detritus of the drawer like he might find something of use in there. His hand brushed over the white envelope flattened into the corner.

 

 _Fuck._ Maybe Jesse just needed to sober up. Get a hard dose of reality. He paused a moment, his hand hovering over the paper, knowing how painful it was to look inside. The moment ticked by and then Jesse plucked it from its spot and flipped it over, his finger running under the flap to open it. He needed to see them. He reached in for the photograph, so worn and dulled from being stuck inside his pants for months, but there was nothing inside. Jesse panicked. He wouldn’t have put it anywhere else. He opened the lip of the envelope wider, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. The photo was definitely missing. He held his breath, a dawning thought taking shape.

 

                _Marie._

                He felt paralyzed, his mouth hanging open in shock. She’d taken his fucking photograph. The only thing he had left of Andrea and Brock and that bitch had taken it like some token to remember her fucking pet project by. He couldn’t believe she’d stooped so low.

 

                “That fucking _bitch!_ ” he cried into the muted space of his room. There was no echo, but he needed to hear it again. “ _Fuck you, Marie!_ Mother _fucker!_ ” He got to his feet, his rage palpable like some big grizzly bear that had just been shot in the ass, and he stomped out of his room to head for the kitchen. He needed to break something. Jesse didn’t even make it there, dropping to the floor midway between rooms as he clutched his stomach. He screamed, the powerlessness returning and his panic rising like a tide. Fuck breaking glass, he was going to have to kill something. Jesse lied down on the floor and put his hands over his face, unable to stop the tears from coming.

 

                By nine o'clock, he was determined. He’d gotten dressed for the outside, had grabbed his keys, and was heading for the door, his focus narrowed to a pinprick. _Two drink minimum_ , he kept chanting, as he made his way to his truck. The snow was light and lazy; he could feel the flakes dampen his hair, but he brushed a hand over his head unconcerned with the cold. He hadn’t bothered with a hat, so fixated on his destination, and he turned up his collar to keep his neck dry. As soon as he turned the ignition and heard the engine roar, he lit up another cigarette. Jesse twiddled the radio knob until he came to the first heavy metal station he could find and then switched the volume up full blast, speeding his truck backwards down the path. When he made it to the end, he turned sharply onto the road, his wheels squealing on the pavement. Jesse pushed the gear into first and peeled off down the road with his foot to the floor.

 

                Once he had made it to town, Jesse could no longer kid himself that he was really going to the bars. He slowed down his speed as he turned into the main road, his window open so that the blast of cold air on his face would keep him alert. He could already see their hotel lit up in its obnoxious neon green; it was such an ugly building. He motored down the two streets that it took to get him there with an affected insouciance. He was nervous but he wasn’t about to show it. As soon as he pulled into the parking lot, however, he started to feel sick, like some Pavlovian thing with the dog and the bell. He let the truck idle in the front, kicking himself for not bringing a baseball hat that he could have tucked low over his eyes. He contemplated his next move, wondering where he should park.

 

                Jesse ended up in the back again, going all the way to the farthest corner of the lot so his truck was in shadow away from the spotlights. He walked briskly; he was practically running at one point the closer he got to the front of the building. When he stepped through the doors, he ignored the people at the desk, keeping his eyes on the elevators on the left as if he were a guest heading back to his room. As soon as he was inside the elevator, he let out a gush of breath. He was going to do this. He had shit to say, yo, and she would just have to listen. The ride up was silent—he was the only person in the compartment—but his insides were starting to squirm, making weird noises as he rose up through the floors. He suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

 

                The elevator stopped and the doors opened noiselessly. Nothing but a ghostly silence beckoned him from the hall. Jesse stepped out and looked to his left and then right, trying to recall their individual room numbers. It was absolutely imperative he get the right one. He listened to his feet padding across the carpet, the sound not quite as menacing as he felt. The numbers on the doors goaded him on. 426, 424, 422. He slowed. The next one was where Marie was sleeping, he was pretty sure. He had to close his eyes and hold his breath as he passed it, afraid he might break down the door in a fit of Hulkian fury. There it was, 418.

 

                He knocked twice, the rap insistent but not too loud. Jesse wanted to avoid waking the sister at all costs. He waited anxiously, listening for movement on the other side of the door. Nothing happened. Jesse knocked twice again, employing the same pressure, and this time the door flung open before he finished.

 

                “What the hell are you doing here?” Skyler demanded in a hushed voice, standing with her robe held tightly at the front.

 

                “Who do you think you are?” he retaliated, ready for her. He pointed his finger at her chest. “Where do you get off treating people that way? You think you’re, like, God, or something? Is this some Heisenberg’s widow bullshit? Like the rest of us don’t matter, ‘cause you’re so fucking badass?” He knew he sounded shaky, but he didn’t care, his righteousness fueling him on.

 

                “Jesse, what on earth are you talking about?”

 

                “What am I talking about? What I’m _talking_ about?” His voice got louder. “I’m talking about what you did. What both of you did.”

 

                Skyler went pale, and then she was grabbing him by the wrist to pull him inside her room. She put a strict finger to her lips, pointing towards her sleeping daughter with the other hand. Holly was curled up in the bed, her curls fanned out on the pillow. Jesse was momentarily stymied, not wanting to wake her, but Skyler took hold of his arm again and tugged him to the bathroom. As soon as she shut the door behind them, she raised her palms up, hands outstretched.

 

                “Do you want to explain why you came all the way out here to shout at me? I thought things were done, Jesse.”

 

                “What does that mean? Like, like, what do you mean, _done_? Why’d you even start? Do you even, like, _know_ , like do you even have a fraction of an idea of how _fucked up_ that shit was for me?  I can’t—I can’t—like, I can’t believe you _or_ Walt. Like, what is it with you two? Do you both live to take a shit on me, or what?”

 

                “Okay, you are getting way too loud, and I have no idea what you’re babbling about. Did you park your truck out front?”

 

                “Huh? My truck?” He didn’t know what his truck had to do with anything.

 

                “Yes, your truck. Where is it parked?” she asked again as if he were slow.

 

                “Whatever, man, it’s in the back, like last time. Why does it matter? No one saw me.”

 

                She shook her head impatiently. “No, Jesse, you’re going to go back down there and wait for me. I can’t have you in here. And I really don’t need Marie knowing you’re here, for God’s sake.”

 

                “Oh, believe me, she won’t want to run into me right now, you’re fucking straight about that, Jack. ‘Cause that shit is fucking _low._ Like, Walt-low. And-and-and how do I know you’re not just gonna leave me down there, to like, cool me off, or whatever?”

 

                “Oh my God, are you kidding me with this? Are we really going to do this right now?” Skyler had her arms across her breasts tightly, her eyes widening. “Can you _please_ just do this for me?” She leaned close to him and Jesse got a waft of the liquor on her breath. “I will come down. I promise. But I need to make sure Holly is okay. So _will you_ just climb out of my ass and go do what I ask?”

 

                “ _Fine_. But I’m giving you five minutes, yo. You’re not down there on time and I’m coming back up here. And I will rain down a shit storm, if I have to. I’ll wake up the whole fucking hotel _and_ your sister. _Got_. _It_?”

 

                He pivoted on his foot and let himself out of the bathroom then stormed out of the room, making sure to let the door close with the faintest click. Jesse mumbled to himself all the way down the elevator and through the lobby, ignoring the staff’s concerned faces as he reviewed the things he’d told her. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t have a watch and he hadn’t brought along a phone. He stopped in his tracks, cursing himself for being such an idiot for maybe the ten thousandth time in his life. His truck was too old for LCD. He looked around the walls for a clock. It had been maybe, what, two minutes since he’d made his threat? Jesse would just have to wing it. He left through the glass doors and marched to his waiting truck.

 

                Sitting in the cab with the light on and the door open, he stuck his hand in his back pocket to retrieve his cigarettes. He’d only just gotten one lit when he saw movement in the rear view mirror. Jesse swiveled in his seat to look behind him, noticing the advancing figure had just come through the exit door. He saw Skyler’s blonde hair as she got closer and he felt another wave of indignation hit him. The sounds of zooming cars far off and the slick whoosh of wet roads filled him with an instant sense of loneliness. He wished his life could be different, that he could stop making the same mistakes.

 

                When Skyler drew up to his side, he saw that she’d put on her quilted coat and some boots, but her robe was still on underneath. She held up her phone and waved it at him.

 

                “Okay, asshole, you have my undivided attention now. I’ve got Holly’s monitor connected to my phone, so I need to keep the speaker on. So you go ahead and have your hissy fit but let’s make sure we keep the volume at a decent level.” 

 

                Jesse quickly exhaled the smoke from his lungs, his cigarette directed at her as he spoke. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the asshole. Right. That’s good. You keep telling yourself that, _Skyler_.”

 

                Skyler threw up her hands again before wrapping her arms around her middle. “Honestly, Jesse … I don’t know what it is that you’re so upset about. Are you mad that we slept together? Is that what this is?”

 

                “Oh! So that did happen? ‘Cause I wasn’t really sure, being how you couldn’t even look at me this morning.”

 

                Skyler hopped up and down for warmth, looking around the lot before turning back to him. “Look, can we do this in the truck with the heater on? It’s freezing out here.”

 

                He rolled his eyes, but did as she asked, turning the engine on as he closed his door while she hurried around to the other side. Jesse flicked the heater’s switch, cold air blasting him at first before it had a chance to get warm. Skyler sidled into the cab next to him, slamming the door. When her gaze landed on him, her features had softened.

 

                “I’m sorry about this morning, okay? It was … a bit awkward. And then Marie being so upset—I was trying to calm her down and I couldn’t really focus on you. I mean, I didn’t know what to say, really. I was feeling like … well, I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

 

                “Oh, you think?” he shot back before realizing what he was agreeing with. “Although, I’m not saying it was _bad,_ alright? I’m just … I can’t really deal with people fucking with my emotions right now, you dig? It’s not about how you were last night, but you guys kind of left me with a bad taste in my mouth when you took off. Like, I was … well, whatever, it wasn’t something that I need in my life. Shit’s hard enough to get through the day.”

 

                Skyler appeared contrite. “Sure, I get that. But you can be really confusing, Jesse. You’re so hot and cold, from one second to the next. You give a lot of mixed signals. And I know you’re in a vulnerableplace right at the moment. I should have taken that into consideration before I … made such a stupid move.”

 

                “Okay, okay, it wasn’t _that_ stupid,” he bristled. He took another puff of his cigarette, trying to get a handle on his mood. “It was nice.” _So lame, dude._ “Nah, that’s a bogus answer. I mean, you were great. I _sooo_ needed that. And you made me feel really _good,_ alright? Which is why I felt so shitty later on. I thought …” he shook his head. “Well, never mind what I thought, but you guys did a major fucking head trip on me today. And what was up with that bullshit you gave me when your sister came out on the deck? Way to make someone feel like scum.”

 

                “She seemed to be having a real problem with you, Jesse. It was only logical that I assumed something had transpired between you two.”

 

                “You wanna know what happened? Really?” Jesse had an abrupt change of heart, eager for her to know the truth. “She went through some personal stuff of mine while she was in my room. Like, _way_ fucking personal. And it freaked her out because all this time she’s been seeing me as this delicate little flower, you know? The poor little victim in way over his head, oh, how terrible, how can I baby him? But she’s not really ready to see things the way they really are, which is kind of funny considering the woman actually _requested_ to look at her husband’s decaying remains, so you’d think she’d be, I don’t know, a little more realistic.”

 

                Skyler stayed quiet, but she studied him as he took a breath. It was strange to have her just listen to him like this. He was so used to Walt always shouting over him or shooting holes in his argument.

 

                “And she wants to know it all, just like you said, but she can’t … _do that._ It’s _my_ life. I don’t have to tell anyone shit about it, and I’m certainly not going to tell her about … what happened at that place. But she has to keep _pushing._ So I called her on it. Reminded her that I’ve killed people. Obviously, she didn’t want to hear that.”

 

                Skyler sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah, it takes her a little while to process some truths. I think she really believes she’s got her grief handled, like she can just tuck it in her purse and pretend it’s not there, and yet there are these things that she just can’t let go. I don’t really know if she’ll ever forgive me for what I did with Walt. I know part of her blames me for Hank’s death.”

 

                “Seriously? That’s harsh.” He didn’t want to feel too sorry for Marie, though. “But she’s got some major problems, man. Her klepto thing? I get it when it’s just ripping off some corporation and she’s got, like, this compulsion and everything, but _going into my stuff?_  Taking mementos that _mean_ something to other people – that is fucking straight up _wrong._ And I expect to get that back.”

 

                “What do you mean,” Skyler asked. “What did she take?”

 

                Jesse sucked on his cigarette first before he could answer her. His sight wandered to the black void of the trees on the other side of the chain link fence, the image of another fence stark in his mind. “It was a photograph. Of some people I care about.” When he chanced a glance to Skyler, she had gone very still, her eyes big.

 

                “I’m so sorry. I’ll take care of it, Jesse. I’ll make sure it gets back to you, okay? I promise.” Her eyes glistened in the light, and he worried that she might cry at any moment. But the idea of her getting so upset about Marie’s betrayal touched him. Her sincerity was a balm. Jesse was so used to lies; it had conditioned him to find everyone suspect. All because of that asshole, Mr. White.

 

                “Well, uh … thanks. I appreciate that. It, uh, means a lot.” Jesse rubbed his eyes. “I know I come on strong. And I don’t mean to come down so hard. It’s just … I’ve had a lot taken away from me, you know? And maybe I deserved it, or whatever, but I can’t keep letting it happen over and over again.”

 

                “I can understand that,” Skyler said softly. “I know what that feels like.”

 

                He locked eyes with her. “Yeah, I guess you do.” They stayed quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. “I was super pissed when I got here. You’re really good to talk to.”

 

                Skyler seemed surprised by the comment. “Seriously?”

 

                “Yeah, for sure.” He stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray. “I mean, when you’re not yelling at me or being a wise-ass. You can be really … I don’t know.” He thought about their positions flanking the great Heisenberg, aka, her dickhead husband. “You kind of get it. All that bullshit with Walt. He told me that you were waiting for the cancer to come back. That you took the kids out of the house to get them away from him. I know you were defending him the other night, but … I sort of get that, too. I used to do it all the time.”

 

                She cast her gaze to her knees, her hands curled to the edge of her seat. “I’m trying to understand him, for some reason. Trying to figure out what went wrong and why I didn’t stop it. I was so … disgusted at first, when I found out what he was up to. But then, _I got dragged in_ ,” she said in a despairing whisper. She shook her head. “Well, that’s a lie. I _inserted_ myself into the situation. Like I could control things if I had a say in the matter, you know? That my little schemes would somehow keep the danger from showing up on my doorstep.” She shot him a side glance. “And we both know how that worked out.”

 

                Jesse felt his cheeks heat up. “Well, yeah. That was a pretty fucked up thing to do, I admit that. And you were right –I can’t blame everything on him, but … I can blame _a lot._ Dude fucked me over majorly. And uh,” he looked away. “I felt like you were playing the same game on me. Manipulating me, making me think I was … well, anyway, I get a little crazy where that shit is concerned.”

 

                He felt her place a hand over his, the contact making him warmer than the heat in the cab. “I probably was manipulating you a bit, Jesse. I … I use sex to … when I need to feel control over things. You’ve been this big mystery to me for a long time. I kept wondering why it was that Walt was so committed to you. I know you don’t see it, but Walt cared for you. I think, very much. And that … I guess it threatened me. So …”

 

                “I still think you guys are crazy. You and Schrader. Even Mike thought –well, forget about that, but whatever, I see what you’re saying. At least you can be honest about it.” He smiled at her sadly. “I would probably want to hate fuck me, too, if I were in your position. It’s just that I’m not … I can’t,” he struggled to make her understand without having to say anything about what really haunted him. “Yo, I probably sound like some chick, complaining you did a fuck and run without considering my _feelings_ and all, but, you kinda did.”

 

                She didn’t say anything to that, but her grip around his hand tightened.  Skyler shifted in her seat so that she was closer to him. She leaned over, her breasts pressed against his arm, and tucked her face into his neck. He felt her lips on his skin. When she leaned back to look at him, she had a sleepy, sexy expression.

 

                “I’m terribly, terribly sorry for my actions. I shouldn’t have toyed with you like that. I hope you can forgive me.”

 

                Jesse watched her carefully, feeling caught between the weight of her words and the way she was looking at him. He knew she was probably more than a little drunk. But he also knew that he wasn’t going to see her again after tonight. She could make him feel things that no one else did, not for a long time. It was complicated and it was messy, and he knew he ran the danger of feeling like crap for the rest of the week because he would miss her, but Jesse didn’t want to care about anything else at this moment except for the way it felt when she touched him. He leaned in to kiss her.

 

                Things moved very quickly after that. At first, Skyler attempted to get on his lap, but the steering wheel was in the way. She made him slide over, with him pulling his legs out from under the dash so he could shimmy into her seat, their hands never leaving each other’s body. Instantly, she had climbed on top of him, her hands wrestling with his belt, and Jesse had shifted up her robe and nightgown to pull down her panties. At some point, she made him turn off the light in the cab, just the hum of the motor providing a soundtrack to their grunts and moans. When she fucked him this time, it was with a certain urgency, her cries loud and frantic when her mouth wasn’t on his. Jesse held on to her, feeling like he’d been sucked into a tornado and she was the only solid thing to hang on to.

 

                He drove her up to the exit door when she was presentable again. Skyler promised him that she’d get him the photograph, said she knew how to get it to him without interference. He panicked again when she put her hand on the door latch, wanting her to stay. But that was not a possibility for anyone. She kissed him one last time before she got out, and it was sweet and tender and all that he could wish for. She sighed into his mouth, pulling away from him to disappear into the night.

 

                And then she was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 ------------------------------------------

 

 

                Jesse woke up for work the next morning feeling exhausted. His chest felt heavy as he wearily got ready for his day. The drive to Anne’s was dour and bleak. His food looked good but he couldn’t get past two mouthfuls. The daylight was taking its time to show up, and most of his shift was spent trying to keep his fingers from freezing while he put up drywall. By the time he was done for the day, the sun had made a brief appearance and went into hiding again. He strolled to the parking lot, his thoughts on everything that had played out over the weekend, and happy to see that it wasn’t quite dark yet, that even the overcast light was something to appreciate.

 

                He almost didn’t notice her at first. He made it up to his truck, without taking in the tall person standing not more than six feet over by the gate. When he lifted his head to put his keys in the door, he saw her, and Jesse froze in stunned surprise. She was wrapped in a big coat with a fur hoodie, her face almost obliterated by the trim and a pair of giant black glasses. A suitcase stood behind her. She stood tall and imposing with her high heeled boots, getting some craning looks from the guys on their way home. Jesse darted his eyes around the lot, calculating how many people would see them in the time it would take to pick her up.

 

                When he looked back at Skyler, she held her hands out of her pocket in a question. He gulped. This woman was a little nuts, but he couldn’t stop the soaring feeling in his heart at the prospect of her in his house with him. He had no idea what her plan was, but he knew he needed to get her out of here fast. He nodded to her, then held up a palm for her to wait, jumping into his truck the next second to start the engine. He drove the truck back towards the building they were working on, then turned and brought it around to ride beside the fence. He slowed as he got closer to her, pulling up in front of her while hiding her from view from most of the traffic.

 

                She put her suitcase in the bed of his truck and then pulled herself inside of the cab. 

 

                “Vamanos,” she said.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> email address for Salon is natmcd62@msn.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Skyler remembers that, oh yeah, her life still sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author would like to thank _warriorpoet_ on her fabulous notes for this chapter. It was much appreciated.
> 
> Also, the author came across this in the last week and thought it was fitting:
> 
> http://alienswamp.tumblr.com/post/72264920458 This sums up things nicely when it comes to these two characters. Credits attached to alienswamp's post.
> 
> And also, this is sort of how the author envisions Alaska Jesse -- already provided to us by the AMC promos for season 5 http://media.amctv.com/img/originals/breakingbad/downloads/Season_5B/BBS5B_facebook_timeline-B-850x315.jpg but with a little more beard and longer hair.

 

 

**_Chapter 8_ **

****

****

“I don’t understand, Skyler. This makes _no_ sense.”

 

                Marie’s tone had become more argumentative the longer the discussion had progressed. Skyler had informed her sister of her decision at least forty five minutes ago and yet Marie was still having a problem accepting it.

 

                “How many ways do you want me to explain it? I think I’ve given you plenty of solid reasons already. _You_ were the one who said we needed to give him a chance. Well, I’m taking your advice, giving him the opportunity to do something … positive.” She thought about the hotel bill tucked safely in her purse, and the very large column of minibar fees.

 

                “But that’s asking an awful lot. I don’t … I don’t think you _fully_ appreciate what he’s been through. He made it very clear he didn’t want us there. What makes you think he’s suddenly going to change his mind?”

 

                “I don’t, to be honest. He might say no. If he does, then I’ll just go rent myself a cabin, or check into a bed and breakfast, something. But he might agree to it. I won’t know until I ask. And what makes you the expert on what he’s been through? Did he tell you anything?”

 

Marie looked away, picking up a sweater off the bed to fold. “Not really,” she mumbled. “But I can tell it was terrible. It’s so written all over him. And I don’t want you to … get him too upset. You don’t know what he’ll do. He’s – he’s not like you and me, okay? He might not be able to control his darkness.”

 

                “His darkness?” Skyler echoed flatly, trying to determine if this was more Marie hyperbole, or if she’d seen something concrete. “Marie, did he hurt you in some way? Are you sure nothing happened between you two?”

 

But Marie’s reaction was consistent; her face was horrified at the mere mention. “What? No! I told you that, already!”

 

Skyler wondered again about the change in her sister’s tune, trying to imagine what she’d rifled through in Jesse’s stuff, but this wasn’t the time to get into it. “Look, Marie, I told you I’d be back before your hearing. If you can’t take care of Holly, I understand. You’ve got –”

 

                “Oh my god, that’s so not the issue, Skyler. Of course I can take care of Holly; that goes without saying. And I’m _thrilled_ ”—she threw open her hands as if she were receiving a divine light— “to hear that you recognize you have a problem and you’re willing to take the steps to eradicate it, but … I just don’t know that this is the way to do it. Jesse isn’t exactly stable enough to play sponsor.” She turned to step into the bathroom, talking the whole time as she collected more shampoo bottles and toiletries to be packed into her suitcase. “And he doesn’t seem to want to talk about his own experiences. You go there expecting him to tell you about every conversation he and Walt ever had, and you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

 

                Skyler raised her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head. It was as if she hadn’t been standing right next to her sister the entire weekend, hadn’t watched Marie pester Jesse mercilessly until he was ready to crawl under the table.  

 

                Marie stepped back into the room holding up a tiny bottle. “Have you tried the hand lotion? It smells amazing.” She emptied the armful of hotel goodies onto the bed. “I’m just saying, I will support you in whatever you need to do, Sky, but maybe we should try our options back home.”

 

                “That would be missing the whole point, though.” She sat in a chair at the end of the bed with legs crossed, wishing she could smoke in the room, and praying that she’d be able to convince Marie that this plan was for the best sometime in the next century. She was already anxious enough, and the notion of Jesse turning her away was not something she wanted to consider.

 

                Marie frowned. “I thought the point was to dry you out. Why does it have to be in Alaska? _”_

_“_ I’m not _drying out_ , Marie, I’m just taking a break,” she explained, chafing at the term.

 

                “Taking a break? What is this, a vacation? I thought you were serious about giving up alcohol.”

 

                “I _am_ serious. This is me being serious. I need to have some control of my life again, and the drinking hasn’t helped the situation. I—I’ve been avoiding dealing with it all, I can see that. So … this is an attempt to face what I need to face, on my own, without any inhibitors. And one of the things I need to own up to is what I allowed to happen with Walt.” She waved her hand towards the window. “Jesse is this person who was standing right on the other side of the fence from me the entire time it was happening. He saw the side of Walt that I only got a glimpse of, which was terrifying enough. I _need_ to understand why, and Jesse can help me with that. Just like he helped you find out what you needed to know about Hank.”

 

                “Well, why can’t we _all_ talk about it, why is it only you that gets to stay?”

 

                Skyler gave her a look. “Really, Marie? You have to ask? You were making him crazy.”

 

                “Oh, please, what do you know? Jesse and I had a positively _wonderful_ conversation the first night we were there. He opened up to me about his aunt, and her funeral, and his relationship with his father. And we shared stories about our childhood. It was very special.”

 

                Hearing that gave Skyler an odd sensation, like she’d entered some imaginary competition with her sister. “I’m sure it was,” she told her. “But you have a tendency to take things too far, hon. I know you don’t mean to. I think that with the two of us in his house, plus Holly all over him, it was just too much for him to handle. I’m hoping things will be better if it’s just … you know, one-on-one.”

 

                But Marie still looked doubtful. “I think you get him riled up, though. You’re always antagonizing him. How do you expect to get anywhere if you don’t know how to talk to him,” she asked with wide eyes.

 

                Skyler held her breath, trying to let the moment pass without blowing up. “I think I can manage,” she finally said, her voice husky as her need for a cigarette cranked up several notches.

 

                Marie stopped packing and turned to her sister. “If you do this, _if_ he says no, or _if_ things start to get bad, I need you to promise that you’ll call me right away. I will expect you to get on a plane and come straight home and we will deal with this together. But I don’t want you hanging around here, ending up in some hotel room drinking yourself into a stupor, or whatever, like that Nic Cage movie where he goes to Las Vegas to drink himself to death. I don’t need you going on some bender, Skyler. You have to promise.”

 

                “ _Marie_ ,” Skyler shook her head woefully at her sister. “It’s not like that, I swear. It isn’t like dad, I promise you.” She felt suddenly shameful, knowing that she’d done plenty to Marie already. She didn’t need to add to her sister’s fears.

 

                “Well, you remember that time he took off in the middle of dinner because you called him a lush, and he ended up being gone for eight days? We had to pick him up from some hospital in Phoenix. I can’t have you doing that to me, Skyler.”

 

                “And I won’t. Of course I won’t.  I’m staying because I want to get my head on straight, not because I want to disappear into self-destructive behavior. Marie … I need to be the best mother I can be for Holly, and hopefully for Flynn one day if he ever forgives me, but I have to confront this first. The booze was just a way to numb everything, but I don’t want to be numb anymore.”

 

                Marie's face fell. Skyler had expected more protests, but instead, her impassioned plea provoked more tears. It had been a cyclical thing with her since they’d left Jesse’s house, Marie breaking down every few hours, and Skyler started to think that maybe she would need to look into Marie’s medication when she got back.

 

                “Numb? Skyler, you’re walking around _numb_ and you don’t even talk to me? Why did you let it get this bad? You know I would do anything for you.” She put her hands up to her face, attempting to collect herself and wipe her tears away. “Crap. I need to redo my makeup.” Skyler wanted to say something helpful to her sister, something that would explain her reluctance to confide in Marie these days, but she’d never been very good at navigating Marie’s mood changes. She knew her sister felt sentimental in this moment, but the next day might see the Marie who still felt that Skyler had betrayed her and Hank.

 

                “Hon, check-out time is in fifteen minutes. I really need your answer now. Are you going to watch Holly while I stay? I’m telling you, I’m not going to disappear on you. My daughter is in your hands, sweetie.” It was a big deal for her to even ask, and she hoped that her sister could see this. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll be back before you know it.”

 

                Marie studied her for a moment before walking over to stand in front of her chair. She offered a hand to Skyler, who took hold of it as she stood up. Marie put her arms around her and hugged her tightly. After a second, Skyler hugged her back. She heard her sister speak over her shoulder.

 

                “Alright, I’ll do it. Just promise me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

               

                 It was several minutes before Jesse said anything to her. She sat in his truck with her glasses still on, and stared straight ahead as if this was completely normal and they’d arranged it all beforehand. At first he offered her a cigarette, but when she declined, he put the pack back in the glove box without bothering to take one for himself.

 

                 “So … you wanna tell me what’s going on? What happened to the rental car?”

 

                 “I had Marie turn it in at the airport,” she explained calmly. “They left around noon, but their flight isn’t for another hour, out of Ketchikan International. I had something to eat at the Thai place next to the hotel before I walked over. That was interesting. I couldn’t recall what time you got out of work, though, so I’m glad I didn’t have to wait too long.”

 

                “Your hotel? _After_ you checked out? I mean, that suitcase means you ain’t going back, right?”

 

                “That’s the idea,” she said. “Unless I have to. Unless, I’m unable to find anywhere else to stay.”

 

                Jesse had been trying to look at her face and keep his eyes on the road at the same time, but at that line, his sight was back on the path in front of him.  He grew quiet for a bit.

 

                “And how long would you need to stay at this place?” he asked cautiously.

 

                “It depends on the person who’s letting me stay,” she answered, playing the game. “However long he’s comfortable with it, I guess. But certainly not more than a few weeks.”

 

                “ _Two_ weeks?” Jesse sounded incredulous. “That’s a long time. What are you planning on doing those two weeks?”

 

                Skyler pushed back the hood of her coat, unzipping the front. It felt unnaturally warm in the truck. “I … plan to stop drinking.” She attempted to sound nonchalant.

 

                It was silent in the cab of the truck again. When she finally glanced in his direction, he was watching her intently, seemingly unconcerned for the traffic in front of him.

 

                “For real?” he finally asked.

 

                “Yes, Jesse. For real.” She pointed to the road as the truck started to veer off course. “You, uh, want to pay attention to where you’re going?”

 

                Jesse jerked the wheel and the truck was quickly righted, tossing them both askew. Skyler put her hand out to stop her body from slamming into him and it landed on his thigh. He didn’t jump from her touch, however, but let her keep it where it lay.

 

                “Sorry,” he told her sheepishly. “I’m kinda—I don’t know what to say, man. I mean, that’s cool and all—and I’m being serious, that’s really great if that’s what you wanna do—but I don’t … like, why do you want to do that at my place?”

 

                Skyler considered the question for a moment trying to come up with a reply. What was she really hoping would happen? She wondered if the reasons she had given Marie behind wanting to spend time with Jesse were really about seeking answers, or if it was simply that she was too chicken shit to speak the truth. And how soon would it take before the truth appeared?

 

                “I guess it’s because … well, first of all, you’ve done an admiral job with your recovery from addiction. Impressive, actually. It certainly can’t have been easy with everything you’ve been through to maintain that. And barring a few drinks—which were understandable with us showing up and throwing you for a loop— you seem really committed to the idea, which I … I mean, that’s what I need, you know? Commitment. That single mindedness to just do it and make it happen, and not let life and everyday … _difficulties_ allow you to make excuses. And I’m not suggesting that I’m in the same boat as you, Jesse. You had to deal with heroin, for god’s sake, and I’m … you know,  … it’s _not_ an addiction, for me. I’ve just been letting the drinking get in the way of things, of stopping me from being able to move on with my life and not let Walt’s ... _bullshit_ keep ruining it all, even now. But, anyway.. I would really like to have the opportunity to talk with you some more –away from Marie and away from worrying about Holly – and to just … you know, just be _sober._ And to see how you manage to do it. I’ll admit; I’m very curious about that. So, _that’s_ why your place.”

 

                When she finished her speech, she realized that she still had her hand on Jesse’s thigh, and quickly pulled it away. She felt like she’d been rambling, which was unlike her, but she had been determined to be as honest as she could with him. And even though nothing that came out of her mouth was really all that honest, it had some honesty to it.

 

                “I will completely understand if you can’t do it, Jesse, and would prefer that I leave. I – I’ll be all right. I know what I’m asking of you is … enormous. So, please know that it’s your decision. I’m not forcing you to take me in. Nothing like that. I’m not holding any cards, here.”

 

                Jesse released a scratchy sigh, the heel of his hand rubbing at an eye. She couldn’t tell if he was disbelieving or simply annoyed with the proposition. He rolled down the window and tilted his head to catch the wind, like a dog letting its tongue loll in the drag. She waited patiently for his answer, playing with the bottom of her zipper to give her hands something to do.

 

                When he pulled his head back in, he breathed in deeply, and then held it a moment as if he were counting down. Skyler watched his body rigid against his seat, and as he vented the air in his lungs in a long whoosh, she suddenly felt in the clear, knowing in her bones that he’d decided to let her stay.

 

                “I don’t know about no two weeks, but … I can—I can let you hang out for a little while, okay?” She smiled broadly at him, but he stuck out a finger, his tone adamant. “And hey, don’t you be pulling that same shit as your sister, alright? I’m not gonna have you asking me a ton of questions about things that ain’t none of your business. I – I won’t tolerate it. You get me? We stick to stuff that _I say_ is okay. Like, safe topics, right? You agree to those conditions, and then things’ll stay cool between you and me.”

 

                “Of course, Jesse, whatever you want,” she agreed. Skyler felt a little giddy, like there were champagne bubbles in her chest. There was a sudden buoyancy in her back and shoulders, a great weight lifted that she hadn’t realized had been there.

 

                “And it would be nice if you could stop with the wisecracks, like I’m some kind of idiot. Tone it down, you know what I’m sayin’? I got enough of that with Walter, calling me names all the time. That shit gets tired real fast.”

 

                She had the good sense to play chastened, her penitence on display in the dip of her head. “I know, I know. I can be a real bitch. Believe me, you’re not the first person to point that out.” She widened her eyes at him. “I can be … nice, Jesse.” She could be very nice.

 

                Her promise seemed to have the desired effect, however, and Jesse looked a little more centered, some color coming back into his face. He nodded once.

 

                “Alright, then. Let’s talk about ground rules …”

 

* * *

 

 

 

                As soon as she stepped back into his cabin, Skyler’s relief flooded her. The headache that had started about ten miles ago seemed temporarily dimmed. She felt strangely powerful here, nothing like the sense of futility that routinely washed over her every time she got home to her sad apartment. She was a giant in this place, sniffing over Jesse’s things with an air of authority—the usurper to his little domain. Skyler could sense his need for her approval like the salty notes in an ocean breeze, and watching his reactions to her every gesture and comment over the weekend had held an inherent thrill. But she had to be careful now. He had laid out his demands very explicitly and she couldn’t afford to piss him off. She wanted him on her side.

 

                He came in behind her with her suitcase in tow. Jesse shut the door and then pulled off his outerwear, his boots kicked to the corner as he popped up the handle of her luggage and rolled it through the living room, on his way to his bedroom. Skyler took off her own coat and then followed him.

 

                When he rolled it up to the end of his bed and turned, he startled to see her there. “Oh, uh … I was going to … you know, I gotta make the bed and everything, since I didn’t know I’d be having a guest and all. Let me, uh –let me change the sheets and straighten the place up, and you can … um, you want something to drink? I mean, like, coffee or juice or something?”

 

                Skyler sat on his bed and lifted a leg to lie across the other, reaching for the zipper of her boot. “Or something?” she repeated suggestively. She let the boot drop to the floor and then switched legs, her gaze locked on his.

 

                “Uh, _yeah._ I can get you something from the kitchen if you’d like,” he said, his tone prickly.

 

                She let the other boot fall with a thud before reaching for him, hooking a finger in his belt loop so she could drag him closer to her. He went begrudgingly, his forehead creased over furrowed brows.

 

                “You don’t need to go to the kitchen,” she told him in a silky voice. “Maybe what I’d like is right here.” Skyler put a hand behind his knee and pulled forward, trying to get him to straddle her on the bed, but Jesse pulled it away, taking a step back. His features hardened.

 

                “What is this?” he asked. His expression became more suspect as he waved a hand between them. “What’s going on here?”

 

                Skyler recalled Jesse’s words the night before. “I thought we could make each other feel good. Isn’t that what you want?”

 

                “You don’t care what I want,” he told her baldly, and Skyler felt the sting of his veracity.

 

                “I like you, Jesse, okay? I guess I was hoping that we could – I thought we could comfort each other. That’s all that’s going on. I’m not trying to … well, I don’t even know what it is you think I’m doing. It’s nothing nefarious. It’s just fucking.”

 

                He remained stock still as he watched her thoughtfully, his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. When he finally looked away, there was a tangible sorrow drawn into the lines of his body, his shoulders drooped in a cowed acceptance.

 

                “I, uh, I’m pretty rank right now. I should take a bath. You—you do whatever you want. I won’t be long.”

 

                She grabbed for his hand, the headache returning with a low thudding to her temples. “You smell fine to me,” she said. She twisted the material on the hem of his sweater, the implication clear. “Just come lay down with me for a bit.” But he removed her hand and took another step back.

 

                “Nah, I’m really sweaty. Seriously, I stink. I’ll … just give me a chance to get clean.” He moved quickly to his dresser and slid open a few drawers, snatching a few clothes free before fleeing from the room. Skyler heard him enter the bathroom and the door close with finality. The lock clicking into place was loud enough to be heard from her spot on the bed, and when the water for the tub turned on, she threw herself back on his rumpled sheets with an exasperated sigh.

 

                Skyler’s head throbbed. It had been over nineteen hours since she’d had her last sip of vodka. She feared this wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought, with either the liquor or with Jesse. She suddenly remembered that he had no internet access, that he was a virtual hermit. And while that had sounded good when she was trying to imagine a remote location where she could be distanced from bad influences like booze and snooping sisters, and where she could admit that disappearing into Jesse’s body for longer than a brief interlude held a strong appeal, it became a much bigger challenge when she considered just how much time she’d be spending on her own.

                She stood up and looked around the darkening room. It would feel like night soon enough. She had plenty of time. Skyler went to the kitchen to see if she could find some Tylenol in Jesse’s cupboards.

 

* * *

 

 

 

                When she heard him come out of the bathroom, she was already halfway through her preparations for dinner. The noodles were boiling, the bread was in the oven toasting, and the house smelled good with the scent of garlic and broiling butter. Her need for a drink was still great, but her headache had subsided. Marie had texted her as they’d gotten on the plane, so she felt good about the current state of her plan.

 

                “Dinner will be up shortly,” she called out, expecting him to head to the safety of his room. “I just need to toss the pasta, and the garlic bread is almost done. Finish what you—oh,” she stopped. He stood in the archway in a clean tee-shirt and some sweatpants watching her at the oven. His hair was wet and slicked back with the grooves from a comb. “Um, you said you wanted to straighten up your room. I mean, you don’t have to; I don’t really care about clean sheets, but I’ll be done here in a couple of minutes, so ... whenever you’re ready.”

 

                Jesse walked to the sideboard behind her, and she turned to see him open the cupboards and pull out some plates. “I got the table,” he muttered. He ripped off a few paper towels and then there was the clang of silverware as he fished for some knives and forks. Jesse slipped away to the dining room as she bent to open the oven door. The clatter of china on wood had a comforting familiarity to it, like she was back at the old house on Negra Arroyo Lane, listening to Junior set the table.

 

                After her pasta dish was prepared, she hooked the salt and pepper shakers between her fingers and brought them to the table with the saucepan from the stove. They passed each other in mid-route and she stopped to watch him as he went back into the kitchen. The doors of the cupboard opened again, the sound of glasses on the counter following.

 

                “Jesse, can you take out the garlic bread while you’re in there?” She heard him moving about with his work while she scooped out the angel hair onto their plates. As she turned to go back, he passed her again, the bread on another dish. She could hear the whirring sound of the microwave, and then a ding as she left the saucepan back on the stove with a lid.

 

                “Sit down, I got the rest,” she heard him say from the dining room. She glanced toward the microwave again, but decided to let him finish. Skyler was feeling a little nauseous and needed some food in her stomach.

 

                She sat at the table and waited for him to join her. When Jesse came back, he held a steaming cup in his hand and placed it in front of her, his own drink appearing to be a glass of coke. She gave him an inquisitive raise of her eyebrows.

 

                “Drink some tea with your food,” he directed. “It’s got passionfruit in it. Good for stress, you know? It’s got like, anti-anxiety properties and all, really holistic. Makes it easier to deal with the shakes.”

 

                “Ah,” she said. “I see. Well, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, so I’m not quite suffering from the DTs yet,” she added with some sarcasm.

 

                “Maybe not, but you’re gonna feel like shit pretty soon, so might as well get a head start.”

 

                She stared down at her food, feeling her face flush. “I took some of your acetaminophen,” she acknowledged. “I’m feeling a little better.”

 

                He nodded in understanding as he started on his food. Jesse took a bite, winding up a long piece of dangling pasta with his fork. After a few chews, he gave her an approving face before swallowing. “Tasty,” he commented.

 

                “Just something I used to throw together once in a while,” she explained with some fond remembrance. “When I needed to stretch a buck while we waited for a paycheck, I’d have a night where I’d just take whatever I could find in the refrigerator and try to make something edible out of it. This dish was one of Flynn’s favorites. It’s just the basics of an alfredo sauce, with some sour cream and egg yolk, but the secret is to add a balsamic salad dressing with the parmesan.  And, of course, stale bread is always good for garlic toast.”

 

                “Yeah, it’s good,” Jesse said appreciatively. “Better than what they make at Albertson’s deli, I bet.”

 

                Her fork paused on its way to her mouth. She was starting to develop a little tingling sensation low in her belly and across her skin whenever Jesse took a sarcastic tone with her. “Oh. You remember that, huh?”

 

                Jesse simply shrugged. “I kinda remember everything from that night. It was pretty memorable.” He continued to eat, his eyes to his food as he swirled more noodle around his fork.

 

                “Yes, I suppose so,” she replied, thinking about the two bottles of wine she’d finished off that night and how sick she’d been the next morning. “I was so relieved when I could finally bring the kids back to the house. Without them, it was like a crypt in there. Some nights, I’d only bother with one light on in the entire house.”

 

                “Yeah, I got the feeling that things were pretty bad between you two by then. Like, loud and clear.”

 

                She suddenly recalled how Walt had insisted that Jesse stay, even though Jesse had made it obvious he’d rather be anywhere than in their house at that moment. “He certainly made a point of flaunting you in my face. You and the business. That was Walt’s way of punishing me for getting the kids out. It had only been a few days before then that he’d been gloating about how he was robbing a train. Jackass.” A terrible reminder reared up in her brain, news clips informing her that along with the train robbery, Jesse and Walt been involved in Drew Sharpe's murder. "Oh. Sorry," she told him.

 

                Jesse turned away from her, scratching his neck. He made a clearing sound in the back of his throat, taking a sip from his glass. “You, uh … you heard anything from your son yet?” he asked, still not looking at her.

 

                The question surprised her. She hadn’t said anything to suggest that Flynn had shut her out of his life, and she said nothing until Jesse looked up. He opened his hands. “Your sister,” he said, by way of explanation.

 

                Skyler closed her eyes, marveling at how Marie managed to irritate her even when she was thousands of miles away. “Well,” she started, “he spoke to me a little when we visited. So there’s that. I suppose it’s progress. But typically, I hear about how he’s doing from Marie’s weekly updates. He never answers my texts or emails anymore.” She cursed Jesse for bringing up the subject, her need for a Stoli on the rocks back with full force.

 

                “He’ll get over it, eventually. Just gotta give him time.  You know, guys and their moms … that shit can get complicated. It’s like, part of you feels guilty for being mad at your own mother, like you don’t got the right. But then that just makes you want to hold on to your anger even longer. Like, if there’s anybody in this world that should have your back every time, you’d expect it to be the woman who gave birth to you. So, it’s just hard to deal with, feeling like she betrayed you, I guess. He’s just got to work it out.”

 

                But Skyler couldn’t accept that her actions had amounted to a betrayal. “I was only trying to protect him, though. I didn’t want him to know what his father had become. How was that betraying him? I knew how devastating the truth would be for him. You have no idea how much Flynn looked up to his father.”

 

                “I always thought his name was Walt, Junior,” Jesse said, immediately trouncing her defense. “That’s what Walt called him, anyway—Junior. When did he become Flynn? Before or after he got the news?”

 

                She crossed her arms, affronted by his sarcastic tone. “What’s your point? What does it matter what we call him?”

 

                “I’m just sayin’, I think your kid might have gotten a clue that his dad was an asshole when you threw him out of the house. You know, teenagers are smart like that. I mean, I hope you didn’t tell _him_ about your affair.”

 

                Skyler put her knife and fork down, clasping her hands by her mouth with her elbows on the table. She composed herself before answering, wanting to drop the discussion. “Jesse, you gave me a long list of people and places that I’m not allowed to ask about while I’m here. Could you please do me the courtesy of leaving this one alone? I really don’t want to talk about the reasons my son won’t talk to me, right now.” She glared at him. “Especially while you’re very thinly veiling this whole conversation behind your own deep-seated Oedipal issues.”

 

                Jesse blanched, rearing his head back. “I don’t got _Oedipal_ issues. Yo, that’s like, wanting to fuck your mom, right? That’s totally gross.”

 

                “Well, what’s this fixation on older women about, then? Your MILF obsession? And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you’re a fan of the big tits, huh? The bigger the better, am I right? Just like mom. I’ve had plenty of those men in my time. Just can’t get past not being breastfed anymore, needing to feel all wrapped up in Mama’s love, like you’re the most important thing in the world.” The thud behind her eyes was back, making her grit her teeth.

 

                “What the fuck, lady? What crawled up your ass?”

 

                “Nothing,” she said icily. “Nothing has crawled up my ass, Jesse. Nothing has crawled up any orifice in my body. Not lately.”

 

                He continued to stare at her, dumbfounded. She felt the heat flare inside of her, her head on fire, wanting to douse it with something quickly before the emotions got too great. She violently ripped off a piece of her bread, the taste of it like sawdust in her mouth. Jesse surprised her again by calmly returning to his food, the fork scraping across the plate deafening to her ears. She listened to him gulp down his coke loudly. It was only once he’d finished everything on his plate, that he spoke again.

 

                “You should drink up your tea. It really works. I drank it by the bucketfuls when I first got here.”

 

                She didn’t move at first, simply sat there with her arms still across her middle, trying to keep her thoughts off the sound of ice cubes plinking in a tumbler and the frosty, cascading crack of liquid being poured over them. Jesse scanned her face, a hand urging her to lift up her cup. With a heavy sigh, she picked it up and took a sip.

 

                “I put some honey in there to sweeten it. It’s good for your throat. Especially if you’re a smoker, waking up every morning with all that shit back there.”

 

                “Is that so,” she said flatly, her monotone broadcasting her complete lack of interest.

 

                “Yeah, herbal’s the way to go, man. Those pharmaceutical companies pump so much shit into people’s bodies. Turn us all into junkies, if they had their way.”

 

                Skyler stared at him with mounting incredulity. “Are you fucking kidding me? How much poison did you make again during your short-lived career as a meth cook, Jesse?”

 

                But Jesse remained unabashed. “Yeah, I know. A ton load. So I should know what I’m talking about, right? The entire drug business is based on getting  ‘em hooked to increase the demand. Thereby, increasing your supply, maintaining a steady surplus of cash, etcetera, etcetera. Doesn’t matter whether they’re legal or not, the same principle applies.” He tapped on the table between them with a finger. “Just finish your tea, yo.”

 

                She took another gulp to get him off her back. It didn’t taste any better, even with the economics lesson. Jesse stood up with his empty plate, but paused as he took in her barely touched pile of congealing pasta. “You should eat something.”

 

                Skyler pushed it towards him, her message plain. He sighed as he collected it, too, on his way to the kitchen.  She managed a few more sips of her tea while he cleared up at the sink, but when he came back to stand by her expectantly, she looked up in query. He pushed the tea some more.

 

                “C’mon, yo. Just chug it down. At least drink most of it.” She continued to gawk. “What, don’t look at me like that. Just do what I say, and you’ll feel better, I promise.” He held out a hand for her as he waited patiently.

 

                She felt a sudden thrill run through her, but did as he asked and gulped down most of the sweetened liquid. When she slammed the cup down, she took his hand. Jesse snaked his grip around her wrist, pulling her from her chair as he began to lead her in the other direction. It was dark in his room, and he let go of her to walk to his bedside table, switching on a lamp. He sat down on his bed and held a hand out to her again.

 

                “You think it’s going to be easy. Like, you can just stop and it’ll be no big deal. ‘Cause you could always take it or leave it, right? But … you find out it gets pretty hard pretty fast.”

 

                Skyler walked over to him slowly, feeling eager but able to see what her mistake had been earlier. She needed him to want her, or else it didn’t work. The need for a drink wasn’t as strong when she had him beneath her, and when she got to the bed, she straddled him, pushing him back to the mattress as she leaned down to kiss him. He kissed back languorously, opening his mouth to her when she pressed him. There was something so willing in Jesse, like he was giving in to her every time she fucked him, giving her a part of himself. She liked the way he let her get on top. Walt had always bristled at the idea, outside of a few impromptu occasions. For a long time in their marriage, Skyler had felt like she’d needed to playact some role for him, propping him up so that he could feel like a man in bed, even when it had become clear that he’d let life run him over in every other aspect. It had come back to haunt her when he’d changed for good.

 

                The thin material of Jesse’s sweatpants let her know that he was responding positively this time around. She rolled her hips, grinding herself into his crotch, the idea of them actually doing this while naked, with no one around to worry about, getting her more excited. Her headache had receded to an intermittent blip in the back of her brain. She slipped a hand down past his waistband, loving the feel of him growing hard in her grip while he moaned into her mouth. Straightening up her body suddenly, she pulled her sweater over her head, nimbly reaching behind her to unsnap her bra. The feel of Jesse’s hands on her bare skin was like a surge of electricity and she held on to his wrists tightly as he cupped her breasts. A noise like a growl came from her throat as she pressed his arms back, pinning his hands over his head. She wanted to fuck him like this. Jesse undulated beneath her and her desire shot upward. She ran her nails under his shirt to make a beeline for his chest as her need escalated.

 

                “Stop,” he barked in reminder, and she froze, pulling her hands away as if she’d been scolded for stealing cookies. Skyler sat up, immediately annoyed.

 

                “I want to see you,” she said.

 

                Jesse gave her a dry laugh. “Not gonna happen, babe.”

 

                “Why not,” she demanded to know with a shrug of a shoulder, the room instantly chilly. Skyler folded her arms across her breasts.

 

                “Um, because I said so?”

 

                But that wasn’t good enough. She stared down at his torso, her fingernails raking across his stomach over the cotton. He squirmed before grabbing her hand to make her stop.

 

                “Well, you’re not hiding any love handles or a pot belly, so what’s the problem? What are you so sensitive about?” She sat back heavily on his pelvis, trying to find her patience.

 

                “Last I checked, you don’t need my nipples for this to work. The equipment you need is a lot lower.”

 

                “The equipment? What are you, machinery? I put in a quarter and you’re suddenly Magic Fingers? I’ve got a vibrator for that, pal,” she griped, bordering on hostile.

 

                “ _Ohmygod,_ ” he muttered, his hand splayed as he pressed it to his forehead. He sighed deeply. “Look, Skyler, I’ll do what you want, alright? Whatever you would like, I will do it for you. You want me to go down on you? No problem. You wanna tie me up? Fine. You want to pee in my mouth? Whatever, I don’t care. It’s just this one thing. Okay? Just this one thing, that I can’t do. Do you really want to make a big issue out of it?”

 

                Skyler considered this new context of options and decided she didn’t really want to make it an issue. “You let a woman pee in your mouth,” she asked him, her revulsion apparent in her tone.

 

                Jesse shook his head as he rubbed a finger over an eye. “Jesus, it’s called an _example._ I don’t know what you’re into.”

 

                “But if I _wanted_ , you’d let me do that,” she stated again, growing more disturbed as she thought back to Jesse’s reaction in the parking lot.

 

                He didn’t answer her at first, just stared at the headboard as his jaw worked back and forth, his body tense underneath her. He finally shrugged his shoulders with the apathetic surliness of a teenager. “People like strange things, man. Some of ‘em get off dressing up in diapers, you know? Who am I to judge? I just do what I’m told.”

 

                Skyler frowned at his attitude. “Well, who’s telling you to do these things? And why would you be okay with it? You’re telling me that you won’t allow me see your body, but you don’t have a problem with someone restraining you?”

 

                He surprised her with a deep laugh, his expression one of bemused disbelief. “Uh, hon, I was restrained on a continual basis for five months. Like, full body chains, a leash, the whole nine yards.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “ _I’m kind of used to it,”_ he whispered.

 

                She felt herself shiver, the chill now inside her. Skyler didn’t want to hear this.

 

                “Well, I’m not really _into_ anything. So, you don’t have to act like you’re my escort, or whatever. Jesus, I’m not paying you.”

 

                “Nah, you’ll just turn me in to the cops if I piss you off enough. Or don’t do what you want.”

 

                She was stunned. “I told you … Jesse, we said we wouldn’t do that. I never threatened you with an ultimatum.”

 

                Jesse sat up slowly, his hands curving around her ass as he squeezed her closer to him. “Yeah, but you don’t have to,” he told her, his voice deep and husky. “It’s always there, isn’t it?” She couldn’t give him an answer, knowing that he was right even if it hadn’t been her intent. He gave her a muted smile. “Skyler … look, I get it. Sometimes, you just need a body, and that’s cool, especially when things feel like they’re out of your control. I know I got upset last night, like my feelings were hurt and all, but I ain’t no angel, okay? I used to get so high, I’d be tweaking for four, five days straight and I’d fuck a lot of chicks that I couldn’t even remember what they looked like a day later; I’d never even know their names.” He trailed a few fingers down the side of her arm, pressing her closer as he kissed the flesh alongside her breast.  “That’s one of the better things about meth, though,” he spoke into her skin. “You can’t remember who you’re with, but all the other details are really important in the moment, so some stuff just keeps repeating in your brain, like reverb. Condoms actually feel good going on, ‘cause like, every little nerve ending is exploding, like, a thousand times more than normal. Damn, the sex could go on for hours.” He mouthed a nipple, tonguing it lightly, and Skyler arched her back in response.

 

                “Do you miss it?” she asked him, her voice low and breathy.

 

                He stopped what he was doing. “The meth? Or the sex?”

 

                Skyler peered down at his face between her breasts. “The meth. Do you miss it more than the heroin?” She was curious about his experience.

 

                The pads of his fingers swirled around her sternum. “I don’t miss heroin at all. Not even a little bit. That was … fucked up. All of it. I only took the stuff, maybe, a handful of times, but that last time …” He shuddered and pressed his face into her cleavage, his speech muffled. “Let’s not talk about that, please.”  Jesse tucked a hand in the back of her pants, fingers brushing lace. She cradled his head, angling him back to her breast. It was a relief to have the mood returned to where it had started, the heat coiling lower inside her as Jesse worked to get her back into an appropriate state.

 

                He pulled back for a moment with a deep breath. “We, uh, should get you under the blanket, okay?  You’re covered in goosebumps.” His fingers scraped against the front of her pants, fiddling with the buttons. Skyler didn’t want to move, but she was freezing, wherever her skin was not being touched. She got off of his lap, standing on shaky legs as she unzipped her trousers and finished undressing briskly. He watched her as she climbed back into bed, his face grave yet difficult to read. She wanted him to see all of her, to make a point that she was willing to expose herself completely even if he wasn’t. He shifted his way under the covers with her, his arm automatically wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

 

                “You feelin’ better yet? Headache gone?” He seemed earnest enough.

 

                Skyler unhooked his hand and then moved it to fit snugly between her legs. “I’m sure I’ll feel better in another few minutes,” she said wryly. He nodded to her, then shifted again as he moved lower under the sheets. “What are you doing?” she asked when his head was about to disappear from view. He glanced up at her.

 

                “Just relax, alright.”

 

                When it became apparent what Jesse had in mind, she arched her back off the bed, her mouth an ‘o’ of surprise. This had not been expected and it wasn’t something she was used to. But even as she enjoyed what he was doing, Skyler started to feel like she’d lost a round; that she was not currently the one who was in charge, and that somehow, their roles had reversed. She wondered what she’d need to do to gain back the upper hand. Then Jesse did something that made her eyes flutter and her toes curl, and the next moment, Skyler no longer cared who was in charge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

                She awoke in the middle of the night. It was inky black but for the pinprick of stars shining through the slats of Jesse’s blinds. Skyler rolled over to curl into Jesse’s back, but there was no one there. She was alone.

 

                She sat up, listening for any sounds in the house. There was something. A scratching noise from beyond the room. She got out of bed, quickly grabbing the top blanket that lay over Jesse’s duvet and wrapping it around her before she froze from the cold. It felt like Jesse had forgotten to turn on the heat. Skyler stuck out a hand so she could use it to guide her way in front of her as she made her way to the door.

 

                When she stepped into the living room, she saw the light coming from the studio in the crack above the floor. It had to be close to 2am, and as she considered finding her purse to check her phone, an image sprung to her mind. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten all about it; even more surprising was that Jesse hadn’t mentioned it. She shuffled haltingly towards the spot in the living room where she recalled her purse being last. Bumping a toe into Jesse’s rocking chair, she hissed in pain as she hopped on one foot, but she didn’t want to make any sound to alert Jesse to what she was doing.

 

                Skyler opened her purse, groping for her phone, checking the face as soon as she found it. The time read 2:45, and she saw that Marie had left her another text.  She used the flashlight application and let the white glow illuminate the inside of her purse. The gun gleamed its warning, like a dangerous animal slumbering in its cave, but Skyler pushed around it to find the thin slice of the photo. The baby bottle tipped over as she jostled the contents, no longer filled with wine. She had finished her stash the day they’d left Jesse’s, and she couldn’t help the disappointment she felt at seeing it empty. But then the light flashed on crumpled plastic, and Skyler fished out the baggie, its treasure still inside. This would make Jesse very happy. She considered saving it and handing it over to him at a time when she might need the leverage, but then she shut her eyes tightly, immediately disgusted with herself.  As if she hadn’t put him through enough already.

 

                There were some more scratchy sounds behind the door when she approached it. A flash of nervousness rose inside her, but then she tamped it down and knocked gently. Nothing happened. She knocked again before remembering that Jesse sometimes wore headphones. Turning the knob, the door creaked open as she poked her head inside.

 

                He sat at the far corner of the room, by the window, his face close to the canvas he was working on. His features were scrunched up in concentration, a pencil gripped between his teeth like a dagger, as he rubbed at something in the foreground. She saw the white lines trailing from his ears and called his name loud enough to fill the room. Jesse looked up at the distraction.

 

                He pulled the buds loose. “Oh, hey. Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”

 

                She shook her head. “You were fine. I – I couldn’t sleep.”

 

                His expression was dubious. “Really? You were pretty dead when I left you. Figured you’d be out till morning.”

 

                She felt herself blush. The tea might have contributed to some of her sleepiness, but they both knew that he had worn her out. It had been ages since she’d had that many orgasms in one sitting. Jesse had barely come up for air.

 

                “Oh, well … yes, I was, I, uh. I guess I’m just used to waking up at weird hours. My mind seizes hold of something and it can’t let go, no matter how tired I may be.”

 

                “Right, I know what you mean. It can make you kind of crazy. I’m used to not sleeping, though, so, if I’m ever disturbing you, or whatever, just tell me.”

 

                “Doesn’t that mess with your head after a while?” The concern in her voice was genuine. She worried about Jesse’s mental stability in this kind of solitude.

 

                “Sometimes, yeah. I’ve had some bad nights, no doubt about it. But … I don’t really need that much sleep, anymore. It’s awesome during the summer solstice, when you get long-ass days and you can get so much shit done. I guess it’s a, like a side-effect of the meth, you know? Being wired for too long.” He stood up, setting his player on the table. “You need me to make you something? I got some chamomile. That shit is the bomb.”

 

                “No, don’t worry,” she said, her nerves jittery as she got closer to her reveal. “I—I bought you something, Jesse. I forgot about it earlier. Seems like I was a little wrapped up in my own ... _issues._ And I—I woke up thinking about my promise to you.”

 

                Jesse turned leary. “Promise? What do you mean?”

 

                The blanket cocooned her, wrapped around her hands, but she made an opening and held out the photograph, scissored between two fingers. Jesse’s face brightened.

 

                “Holy shit, you got it?” He hurried to where she stood, grabbing it from her hand with the glee of a five year old on Christmas. “Wow. Like, wow, man. Thank you.” He beamed at her. “How’d you get it from your sister? Steal it back? Or did you have to, like, confront her about it?”

 

                Skyler’s face heated up again. “Um, she doesn’t – I found it without her knowing anything.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

 

                The next second she was enveloped into a tight hug. “Well, way to go! Awesome! Thank you, Skyler.” He gave her a loud, wet kiss on her cheek. She put out her hands to hold on to his waist, feeling ashamed at her deception, but wanting to make it up to him. She kissed his neck. Skyler sensed it was a tender spot for him, knowing she could get a reaction. She whirled her tongue over his skin, nipping at him with her teeth. He reared his head back, staring at her oddly.

 

                “Uh, yeah. It’s, uh, kind of late. We don’t need to … I mean, you should probably get some sleep. I know you don’t feel the need now, but it’ll hit you later.”

 

                “So I’ll sleep later. Come back to bed with me.” She kissed his mouth, the sharp tang of her still all over his beard.

 

                “Babe. Really. You should…” he tried to get her to stop between kisses before finally stepping back to put some distance between them. “I was kind of in a zone, there. You don’t want to interrupt the creative flow when it’s going good, you know what I mean? Never know if you’re gonna get it back.”

 

                Skyler tried not to feel insulted, but it was hard on her having him turn down an offer of sex for the second time today. “But I—I just wanted to, you know, give you some,” she looked around the room, seeing that he’d rolled up his sleeping bag. “You took care of me earlier. More than took care of me. I wanted to,” she stepped nearer to him to put her hand on his groin, cupping him through the material. “I wanted to return the favor,” she murmured. He didn’t jerk away this time, but he removed her hand smoothly.

 

                “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m fine. You don’t gotta do anything like that. This ain’t no barter system.”

 

                The corners of her mouth turned down. “But I want to,” she insisted, her desire becoming acute as she imagined the taste of him.

 

                “Look, now’s just not a good time, alright? I’ll take a raincheck. You get back to bed. I’m gonna make you another cup of tea, get you some more aspirin, you’re gonna feel fine.” He turned her around to herd her out of the room. “I appreciate the offer,though,” he assured her, but Skyler still felt the humiliation of rejection.

 

                “I’ll make my own damn tea,” she snapped, closing the door on him as she made her way to the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skyler goes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author would like to apologize for the late posting. It was a particularly tough chapter to write. To make up for it, this installment is also incredibly long, but the end had to happen in _this_ chapter, in _this_ pov, and it took a long time to get there. The final scene probably went through half a dozen versions. 
> 
> The author would like to acknowledge warriorpoet's continued assistance with her incredibly helpful feedback. 
> 
>  
> 
> And lastly: the author is curious, what is the difference between a subscription and a bookmark?

 

**_Chapter 9_ **

****

 

                “So … how did it go?”

 

                Skyler tapped a cigarette out of a fresh pack as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder. “Surprisingly well, actually. He didn’t get all hyper the way he does, just laid down some rules for me and …” She debated just how much information she should share with Marie, worried that too much might come back to bite her in the ass. “Things seem to be going smoothly so far. I mean, it’s just the first night, but … no disasters yet.”

 

                “Well, has he said anything more about Walt? I know he gets a little upset on that particular subject,” Marie said.

 

                “We didn’t really talk about Walt.” She carefully picked over her words to sum up her conversation with Jesse the night before. “He spoke about his addiction some. That was interesting.”

 

                “Really? Like, what did he say?”

 

                Skyler took a long drag, pulling her cardigan tighter over her shoulders as an icy breeze rolled across the porch. “It wasn’t a lot. Just about, I don’t know, how much he regretted ever taking heroin; how the production of methamphetamine was comparable to the pharmaceutical industry.” She shrugged to no one as she sat on the stoop. “About having anonymous sex while he was high.”

 

                “What? Why’d he say that?” Marie asked.

 

                Skyler flicked the ash off of her cigarette onto the step below. “I don’t know, Marie. He was just talking about what the experience was often like. Reliving the thrill. I think he misses it, sometimes.”

 

                “Misses anonymous sex?”

 

                “ _No,_ the meth, Marie. Or maybe he does, I have no idea.” Jesse hadn’t come across as a guy who _missed_ sex, so much as he was resigned to it. His attitude was a little depressing. “He’s on this homeopathic kick, if you can believe it,” she said, attempting to change the topic. “Kept pushing all this herbal tea on me the whole night.”

 

                “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? He needs to keep healthy. And so do you. It’s kind of sweet, really. He’s trying to help you.”

 

                Skyler rolled her eyes. It wasn’t exactly the kind of help she’d been looking for. “He was a drug dealer, Marie. I think it’s more of a case that old habits die hard.”

 

                “Don’t put it that way,” Marie groused. “That’s just mean. I hate when you do that. And watch what you say on the phone. He’s a good person. The fact that he’s letting you stay there, and that he’s concerned for your well being, trying to take care of you—don’t be dismissive of his thoughtfulness just because of his past.”

 

                “I’m so sorry,” she said, deadpan. “I forgot he was your boyfriend.”

 

                Marie made an exasperated noise on the other end of the line. “Whatever. I’m just happy to hear that you’ve got a place to stay and obviously someone willing to look out for you. Maybe you’ll see it that way, eventually.” She paused for a moment. “Holly misses you. She kept calling for you on the plane.”

 

                Skyler’s heart squeezed, wishing she had her little girl in her arms. There had been too many nights to count when holding Holly had been the only thing keeping her going. “Tell her Mama misses her, too. Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

 

                “She’s down for her nap. I’ll call you around dinner when she’s up, though, if you want. I bet she’ll get a thrill out of talking to Je—uh, I mean, you know, our friend.”

 

                “Really? She’s still asking for him?” She wondered if Jesse had this effect on all children, or if it was just her progeny. She thought about the dead mother and her son in the photo she’d returned to him, imagining what he’d be like with a family.

 

                “Are you kidding? She didn’t stop talking about him the entire way home. It’s a good thing she’s got her little nickname for him. He’s like some kind of baby-whisperer or something.”

 

                She didn’t reply, her thoughts swirling around the many faces of Jesse Pinkman. The more that she learned about him, the more of an enigma he became. His behavior during the course of the evening had been a little maddening, yet she couldn’t help admire the glimpses of strength she saw there. As much as she wanted to bend him to her will, she appreciated that he still had some fight in him after all he’d been through. It made her want him more, which seemed like such a cliché, but went a long way in explaining her tumultuous feelings all morning. She wanted to witness his naked desire, and not some approximation of what was expected from him.

 

                “Skyler? Are you there?”

 

                “Yes, of course. Just, um, just thinking about the kids.” Her voice grew husky as her emotions thickened. Skyler took another puff of her cigarette, noting how her fingers trembled. A quick-cut image of a glass being filled with her liquor of choice taunted her.

 

                “Look, hon, I should go,” she told Marie. “I’ve got this … bullet point list I’m trying to finish. Just really jotting down the things I need to work on and … spend some time on myself, you know? I want to take advantage of the day while it’s quiet. Before _he_ gets home.”

 

                Marie had to offer a few more kernels of advice before Skyler could finally get her off the phone, but she knew it was just her sister’s way of keeping their connection prominent. There had been a long while after Walt’s memorial and Hank’s funeral when the two of them had barely spoken to each other, even though Marie had made every effort. It had been too painful for Skyler to be in the same room with her, the guilt so crushing that she couldn’t even get through an argument with her son _about_ Marie without her throat closing up. And Junior had withdrawn from her in slow increments like a boat drifting away with every lap of the tide. By the time they got the news of Gray Matter’s confounding contribution, he was rarely home, anyway. He’d made all of his plans and arrangements with the Schwartz's lawyers, informing her that he’d been accepted at Berkley via text message after he’d already left.

 

                Skyler ground her cigarette into the step and stood up. It had been a late morning for her. She had crawled out of Jesse’s bed feeling like she had back in the weeks that had followed Gus Fring’s demise, when facing the day had felt like a pointless endeavor. Jesse had left her alone all night, and in a hazy fog, she’d heard the front door slam and the eventual start of his truck’s engine while it was still dark in the room. Her headache had returned shortly after, her throat parched and in need of something stronger than water or Jesse’s infernal tea.

 

                The sun’s rays glinted through the trees, branches dripping with the melting snow, as she scanned the area in front of her. Their little statue had shrunk in size, but he stood proudly with jolly arms, Holly’s carrot still sticking out of its head. There was a path behind the house and Skyler considered going for a walk later if the sun chose to stick around. It was going to be a bit of a struggle finding ways to keep her time occupied while Jesse was away, but then again, she hadn’t stayed for leisure. This was about healing wounds and moving on. About gaining back some agency in her life and no longer allowing it to batter her around like a twig in a hurricane.  She knew she shouldn’t expect Jesse to fill every need she had, couldn’t use him as if his penance was a tool she could wield to assuage her feelings of helplessness, but those inclinations floated to the surface too easily. The realization was both frustrating and bothersome.

 

                 That reckless indulgence had gotten her into trouble before, while working at the taxi company for a brief time. Losing herself to mindless fucks with one of the drivers in the back of his cab had started out harmlessly enough, but then things had swiftly graduated to complicated and vocal. She’d had to quit when the man had taken liberties, had assumed that they were in it for the same thing. He had misunderstood what their trysts had meant for her. It hadn’t been to stave off loneliness; the sex was meant to reclaim her self-worth.

 

                  Skyler made her way to the kitchen and considered giving food another go, but the actual cooking part sounded tiring. She reminisced over the delicious pad thai she’d had the afternoon she’d left her hotel; she could go for another plate. It was perhaps not the best idea to be without a car in such a distant area, although the initial plan had been for her to be without access to bars and liquor stores. She certainly wasn’t about to walk to town. Standing in front of Jesse’s refrigerator, she perused the flyers and numbers he had magnetically tacked to the door, looking for something she could have delivered. She saw an appointment card for Dr. Lacey’s office and peered closer. The date was handwritten. A piece of paper underneath it held a scrawled number and she assumed this was the doctor’s personal phone. There had definitely been the hint of a relationship between the two that was more than merely physician and patient. Skyler wondered how much more.

 

                   She recalled Marie’s details about a figure in Fring’s operation, how Hank had been trailing this Ehrmantraut person at one point. Hearing Jesse’s reference to a Mike as he recounted his story had helped her make the connection. It had seemed by the way he spoke that Jesse had looked up to the man, perhaps the way he had once looked up to Walter, and she started to think that maybe young Pinkman deliberately sought out the company of older men. She doubted he was even aware of it.

 

                   There was a lined paper ripped from a notepad that held several other phone numbers. One appeared to be for the construction company, but the others had no names, just letters: a J and a B, with the last one scribbled randomly in a corner with no identification at all. Skyler hadn’t seen Jesse with a cell phone since she’d been there; she wondered how he contacted people. There wasn’t a phone hooked up anywhere in the house, either, which she’d rather expected. A clock hung on the wall above the fridge, but it appeared to be the only one. This was something she would request be added to their list of rules: a way to reach him. Calling him at work would draw too much suspicion. A slightly frantic voice spoke in her head – _hello, are you happy with your long-distance telephone carrier? Because if not, I would really,_ really _like to TALK TO YOU—_ and a grin spread across her face. Just how many times had Jesse called their house disguised as someone else? Then she remembered the lie of the second cell phone and the grin dropped like stone.

 

                   Skyler left the kitchen with a kettle on the burner, taking in the expanse of Jesse’s little house from the archway. Everything was in eye’s view with the exception of the bedroom and bathroom. And his studio. She stared at the door for a moment having almost forgotten this magic room, the suggestion of booby traps on the other side traipsing through her head. Would he have left it open for her to investigate? It seemed imperative that she find out.

 

                    She turned the knob and the door clicked open, the moment so much like her early morning foray that she half-expected to see him back in the corner working on his canvas. But when she stepped inside, the room was empty and deathly quiet, filled with the suspended hush of a secret place, as if the subjects peering at her from Jesse’s paintings were all waiting for her to leave so they could resume their lively conversations. Skyler turned around slowly as she surveyed the work on the walls. She hadn’t given them any attention before, but now she had an entire afternoon to scrutinize them, the stacks of canvases on the floor appearing as little thought bubbles to Jesse’s mind.

 

                 There were seven paintings displayed at eye level and as she peered closer at the individual pieces, it became clear that every silhouette of white featured in the center was a representation of Walter. The scenery around the blank men changed from picture to picture, but they were all assuredly him. In some, Walt sported the outline of a brimmed hat, in others, a pair of respirators styled like horns, but most were simply the dome of his head.  In one startling vision, the figure took up most of the canvas as it bent into the foreground, but instead of an all white cut-out of a person like the rest, this Walt was shaded with black, the dark strokes of paint creating a sense of movement as if he were about to leap from the picture.  White circles across the face stood in for the frames of Walt’s glasses, confirming his identity. Yet it was the figure that the Walt-shadow embraced that Skyler was drawn to, the white body inside the black one tinged along the edges in reddish swirls, creating the illusion that one character bled into the other. She gazed on it for several minutes, trying to imagine what Jesse had felt when he painted it. There was such tenderness in the way Walt held him, yet the suggestion so strong that Walt’s act of comfort was, in fact, an act of destruction. It made her sad, her heart squeezing for the both of them.

 

                  Finally, Skyler had to look away, kneeling down so she could go through the collection on the floor. She heard the kettle’s whistle at some point and went to make her tea, but returned to her spot with her cup and picked up where she left off. Time moved by outside of the window, but Skyler didn’t even notice, lost in the scenes of Walt’s other life that surrounded her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                 The sound of his truck driving up made her jump. Skyler looked around the room and realized it was much darker than when she’d first come in. There was no clock in Jesse’s sacred space, she hadn’t any concept of the time, but hearing him arrive meant that it had to be coming up on four, at least. She stood up in a hurry, her knees complaining from being in a lotus position for hours, but she was afraid that he wouldn’t want her in there and made a dash for the door. She’d just managed to close it and was on her way to the kitchen when he came through the front with jingling keys.

 

                 “Hey, ‘sup? Still here, I see.” 

 

                 He carried a grocery bag in one arm. “I was just thinking about making dinner,” Skyler offered, ignoring his remark, but feeling the need to make it up to him for poring over his art all day without his permission.

 

                “Nah, don’t worry, you got it last night. I just picked up some stuff that I thought might be good to have in the house. Keep it simple tonight, you know. I like soup a lot.” He said it as if he were apologizing for having such basic tastes. He passed her where she stood as he moved towards the counter and Skyler had to resist her urge to touch him.

 

                “That sounds perfect, actually. Especially with this weather. I forgot to start the fire as the sun started to go back into hiding. Why don’t I do that while you wash up?”

 

                He looked over his shoulder at her. “Wash up? Like my hands … or do I have b.o.?”

 

                “Oh, of course not. I just thought … I guess I assumed you always took baths when you got home from work. But, you know, sit down for a minute. You just walked in the door; I’m not expecting you to feed me right this second.” It occurred to her that she hadn’t been a very gracious guest so far.

 

                He stared at her for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, sure, if you want. I’ll, uh, I’ll get cleaned up and change, and you – you get the fireplace going.” Jesse left the bag half unpacked and passed her again, heading for the bathroom. Skyler was practically timid now that he was home, and she wondered where her bout of nerves had sprouted from. She could hear Marie’s voice reminding her not to antagonize him again. She marched to the fireplace and kneeled on the carpet to gather the logs.

 

                “Whatchya been up to?” he asked her as he strode back to the kitchen, on the way out of his room. He’d changed into a big, bulky cableknit sweater over another pair of jeans, looking comfortable and loose as he questioned her.

 

                “Uh, you know, took it easy today. I, um –you were right, I really needed some sleep. I got out of bed pretty late.” She heard him clanging around his pots and pans, his voice answering once the din settled.

 

                “That’s okay. Nothing wrong with chilling out for the day. You’ve been under a lot of stress. That shit catches up with you.” There was a loud snap as he opened a can. “You good with tomato? I’m making us some grilled cheese sandwiches to go with it. I use this awesome cheese I get at the organic store. It’s, like, from France and everything.”

 

                Skyler cracked a smile. He could be hopelessly endearing at times, a virtue she had never anticipated. It crossed her mind that perhaps Walter had noticed this feature of his younger partner, as well.

 

                “It sounds fabulous, whatever it is,” she said loudly. She wrinkled her nose as her fire failed to catch light for her second attempt. “Um, is there a trick to getting this thing going?”

 

                Jesse bustled out of the other room to see what she was referring to. “Oh, that? It’s no trick. Hold on, let me turn down the stove.” He came to kneel next to her, checking the flue first. 

 

                “Jesse, I’m not that useless,” she smirked. “I know how a fireplace operates. I just can’t get the logs to ignite for some reason.”

 

                He smiled sheepishly, as if he’d offended her, and Skyler detected a faint blush to his skin. “Uh, yeah, just checking out of habit. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. You need to get the kindling in a little pile, though. Make a little teepee out of it.”

 

                She watched him work, gathering the twigs and some newspaper efficiently together as he used the long lighter gun nearby to get them smoking lazily. Within a minute, flames licked the hollows between logs. Skyler drew nearer to him. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat mixed with a lingering woodsy scent and she breathed him in with a heady sense of earthy desire, the longing in her like hands stretching from her womb. It was almost painful, and it filled her with a sadness that she didn’t understand. She thought of the images Jesse had created in his studio, leaving her to parse over what was memory and what was simply fevered imagination.

 

                He stood up, brushing the soot from his hands. “See? It’s all in the technique.”  There was the faintest note of pride in his voice.

 

                “Lovely work. But then, you seem to do very well with technique,” she complimented slyly, glancing up at him with a coy smile. Jesse was puzzled at first, but then his understanding bloomed across his features.

 

                “Oh, right. Yeah, well, I had good teachers.” Her flattery was brushed off as tidily as the soot. He went back to finish dinner and Skyler got up to follow him into the kitchen.

 

                “And who taught you the little fire thing?” she asked, more to keep the conversation loose than a need to know.

 

                He paused at the stove then looked at her peevishly. “Why did someone have to teach me that? You think I can’t figure stuff out on my own?”

 

                Her eyebrows flew to her hairline. “I – did not suggest any such thing. You just finished saying – you know what? Never mind.” Skyler turned to go back out of the room, but stopped when he continued talking.

 

                “Someone I worked with, alright? He’s … he’s not around anymore.” His tone softened. “Sorry, you just got me thinking about him.”

 

                “That Ehrmantraut fellow, you mean?” she guessed. “You spoke about him on the tape.”

 

                Jesse nodded solemnly at the frying pan before him as he flipped a cheese sandwich, the toasted side up. “Yeah. Mike. He was an old geezer, but probably the toughest son-of-a-bitch I ever met. Dude was the scariest senior citizen on the planet.”

 

                “And you have fond memories of this person?” she asked, sounding doubtful. “Wasn’t he part of Fring’s gang?”

 

                He looked at her harshly. “Yeah? So. _I_ was part of Gus’s gang, too. What’s your point?”

 

                She grew curious at the onset of capriciousness, folding her arms as she met him head on. “I’m simply asking, Jesse. What’s got you so sensitive?”

 

                He shrugged casually. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just … you know, you get this tone in your voice, sometimes. Like, we were just these pieces of shit, all of us associated with Walt. But, like, you give him a pass on a lot of stuff, man, even though … he could be worse than everybody.”

 

                She breathed in sharply, not feeling up for an argument. But these dark sides of Walt that Jesse kept alluding to tantalized her with their surrealism. She knew that Walt was a killer, but it still seemed like a far-off concept that she couldn’t process fully.

 

                “I didn’t think I _was_ giving him a pass. I know as well as you what Walter did, and how awful he could be. I spent several months absolutely terrified of him. And if I sound condescending or derogatory, I apologize. I just don’t … know these people, or that world, Jesse. I’m trying to understand what the appeal was for Walt.”

 

                He peered at her from under long lashes as he dropped the second sandwich into the pan then stirred the soup. “Okay.”

 

                “What happened to this—this Mike? They never found him.”

 

                Jesse gave her a knowing look. “Whaddya think? He was a threat to Walt, after all.”

 

                “You mean, he killed him,” she said bluntly. Her morbid fascination fueled what she considered a necessary education.   

 

                He nodded his head, handing her a plate with the grilled cheese, diagonally cut into bronzed triangles. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you your soup.”

 

                Skyler sat at the table and waited as Jesse brought their food first then came back with silverware and napkins. She didn’t touch anything until Jesse was seated and began spooning his soup without fanfare. She took a bite of her sandwich.

 

                “Mmm. That is good. What kind of cheese is it?”

 

                “Man, I don’t know if I could pronounce it properly if I tried. But it’s different, right? So freaking yummy.”

 

                She smiled to herself again upon hearing his unbridled enthusiasm. But she didn’t want to drop their previous conversation.

 

                “So … do you know for sure that it was Walt who killed your … co-worker? From what you told us, it sounded like he was trying to convince you otherwise.”

 

                Jesse stared grimly at his soup for a moment before answering, his spoon wading through it in slow circles. “Walt didn’t have to tell me. I knew.” Fingers scratched at the neck of his sweater. “And uh, one of the … _Todd_ confirmed it. Walt kept insisting that he hadn’t done it, but it was just more of his lies to keep me under control, to get me to do what he wanted. Didn’t work out for him so well, though.”

 

                “It didn’t work out so well for you, either, Jesse,” she reminded him, feeling saddened again by Jesse’s plight at the hands of her husband. Skyler thought back to Walter’s complete refusal to even entertain the thought of putting a death sentence on Jesse, how she had watched him recoil from the idea the way a father would reel from bringing harm to his own son. But then something very horrible had changed all that, and her flesh crawled not only at the thought of Walt handing over Jesse to be dispatched by a group of hardened criminals, but her own complicit stance in the outcome.

 

                “Yeah, well, I had been on that path for a while. Sometimes, I think it was all karma and I should have just taken it, not been such a pussy about it, but … it doesn’t make it easier to deal with, you know? Sometimes, I kinda wished Walt had put me in a barrel, too.”

 

                Another wave of disgust rolled over her. “Don’t say that, Jesse.” She reached for his hand. “You know, it was a decision he struggled with. He wouldn’t … he didn’t want to give up on you, that much was obvious, no matter how difficult you could make things for him. It seems to me that he was at least trying to help you when he put you into that center. That drug addiction place? After your girlfriend died. You said it yourself on the tape, that you wanted to just disappear into the drugs and overdose if you were lucky, but Walt came and found you. He dragged you out of there and put you somewhere that would change your life for the better. That … that has to mean something, Jesse.”

 

                Jesse didn’t speak for a long while, pulling his hand free from hers as he picked up a half of his grilled cheese and took a few bites. He took a sip of his water and she was about to move on with the discussion, when he finally answered her.

 

                “It did mean something. For Walt. He put me there because he felt guilty. It was him trying to clear his conscience, that’s all, nothing more. Walt was always going to look out for number one, and if you crossed him … if you crossed him, then your life was pretty much over. It took me too long to figure that out, and that was _my_ mistake. You don’t trust anyone in this world, if you’re smart. I’m not gonna make that mistake again.”

 

                His determination only deepened Skyler sadness. “But what was he feeling guilty _for_? How was Walt responsible for your addiction to drugs, Jesse? Wasn’t _that_ your first mistake?”

 

                Jesse took a deep breath and Skyler sensed that he was about through with the discussion. “Look, there’s a lot you don’t know, alright? _A lot._ So, please just respect that, and spare me the lectures about drugs when you’re sitting at my table, eating my food, and sleeping in my bed ‘cause you got a problem with alcohol, okay?”

 

                She winced to hear his reproach, but her tactless cross-examination had warranted his retaliation and she was instantly regretful. It would require a much lighter hand if she wanted to get anything out of Jesse concerning Walt’s actions, and for the moment, she would have to back off.

 

                “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to phrase it like I knew the whole story. You’re right, I really have no idea what went on between you two. Maybe … maybe one day you’ll tell me.” She put a hand to his arm resting on the table, trying to offer him comfort, but really hoping he would return it. The more that she probed that shared history, the more she felt out of her element.

 

                He finished his dinner and swiftly stood up, stacking his bowl and plate and glass before walking to the sink. She could view him through the cut-out as he washed his dishes and filled the rack, his head down as he worked. Skyler was scraping up the last of her tomato soup when she saw him head to his studio.

 

                “Oh, wait. Are you … are you painting, already? I was hoping you’d chat with me for a bit.”

 

                 He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her dully. “Chat? What are we gonna chat about? We’re kind of running out of things to discuss that don’t end up, like, tense and uncomfortable.”

 

                Her body flushed as she scrambled for a way to make him stay. “But … it doesn’t have to be about Walt. We can just … you know, talk about whatever you’d like. How your day went. What you’re working on. Or … whatever you want to do. I’ve just been by myself all day, so … there’s that.”

 

                Jesse studied her for a beat then glanced to the bedroom. “Right. You want to fuck now instead of later? That’s fine. I can wait till you’re done before I get back to my thing. I just figured it was still a bit early.”

 

                His assumption annoyed her, even if he had predicted the nature of her interest. “I didn’t say that we should … My God, Jesse, I’m not a nymphomaniac. I wanted to _talk_ to you. I’m interested in what you have to say, okay?”

 

                The expression he gave her suggested he’d need a lot more convincing. “You’re _interested_ in me? Sure, like, for my _mind_ , and not just for my dick or my mouth, is that what you mean?” he said sarcastically.

 

                Skyler flinched to hear it worded so efficiently. “ _Yes,_ I am interested in you as a person and not just as … a body, alright? Can you simply spend a little time sitting on the couch with me? I won’t attack you, I swear.”

 

                He still appeared dubious, but eventually moved to the middle of the living room, choosing to fling himself into the overstuffed chair as she made her way to his couch. She stood stiffly watching him throw a leg over the armrest, frustrated by his return to bratty behavior as she sat down across from him.

 

                 “So,” he began snidely, “what’s on point for this evening’s _discourse_ , then? The migratory habits of the Gray Whale? The latest blowback in Syria? Or maybe, how many times I got you off last night? That would be _interesting._ What do you think, _Skyler_?”

 

                “Why are you being so difficult, tonight? What did I say to upset you? I’m just trying … can you not be so touchy?”

 

                “Uh, hello, you were _all over_ my ass last night. You were the textbook definition of _touchy,_ as a matter of fact. What’s the matter, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

 

                “Fine. Let’s talk about last night, then,” she snapped. “What the hell was that all about? Having your face glued between my legs like you were purposely trying to exhaust me—and where in God’s name did you learn some of that?”

 

                Jesse grimaced at her. “What does it matter? What, you never got good head before? How come that doesn’t surprise me?”

 

                “Don’t be rude, I’m being serious, here. And then you wouldn’t let me reciprocate? Why? And don’t give me bunk about your _zone._ You wanted to control the situation, pure and simple, and that was a blatant rebuff as some kind of punishment. Admit it. You’re trying to keep me at arm’s length.”

 

                He bobbled his head at her, as if she were crazy. “Uh, gee, I wonder why.” Jesse threw up his hands. “But seriously, how can you bitch about me keeping you ‘ _at arm’s length_ ’”—he used air quotes for emphasis— “with a straight face?  I spent most of the night with my tongue up your ass. My tongue ain’t that long, yo. Seemed like we were pretty fucking close, to me.”

 

                Her face heated up at the description. “Nice. Very charming, Jesse. I’m trying to make a point about emotional availability and you choose to keep things crude.”

 

                “ _Emotional availability?_ ” He balked at the suggestion. “Are you fucking serious? Oh, right, I’m supposed to open myself up to you so you can rip me into little pieces and toss me on the trash heap like your husband did? No, thanks, I got enough shit on my plate.”

 

                But Skyler couldn’t let it go. “That’s not what I meant. When you drove all the way back into town, so upset with me over what you had perceived as a slight that you had to tell me what you were feeling right away, didn’t you think it was strange that you felt that in the first place? Didn’t it seem like we had … I don’t know, some kind of _connection_ that was there for a reason? You don’t think that’s relevant? Why do you think I came back?”

 

                His raspy chuckle held no amusement. “Yeah, you made it clear why, the second we got here. Crystal, I would say. You want me to make you feel good. So I did. But apparently, that’s not enough for you. Jesus, greedy much?”

 

                “You told me that night in the car that _I_ made you feel good, too. I would like for this to be a mutual experience, that’s all. Is it really that much to ask for?”  He stared at her for a few beats then leaned his head back on the chair with a loud sigh, his hands pressed to his forehead. “Jesse, come sit with me, please,” she coaxed. “Let’s try this again.”

 

                The clock ticking was the only sound in the room while she waited for him to make his move.  He had his hands over his face, the leg hanging over the side jittering along at a rapid pace, but she remained patient as she watched him, not letting her own returning headache and increasing anxiety interfere. Finally, he got up with a slap of his hands and took the few steps around the coffee table to throw his body unceremoniously onto the couch, so that his head lay next to her lap with his legs hanging over the end. He let his feet drop back against the cushioned wood with a few loud knocks.

 

                “Okay, so what do you wanna talk about?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The glare from the sun hit her eyes, first.

 

                Skyler sat up with a start, realizing that she’d overslept again. Immediately, she took note of the empty side of the bed, the light coming through the blinds leaving bright lines on the comforter. The sustained quiet of the house teased her: Jesse had probably been gone for hours. Skyler dropped back down on the mattress with a thump.

 

                “God _damn_ _you,_ Pinkman!” she yelled into the silence. He’d slipped away in the night as before, and Skyler was getting tired of waking up alone. She had enough of that at her own place. Her body felt the rejection in every pore, every cell in her skin. She refused to put up with it any longer.

 

                Skyler tried to sit up once more, the sunlight and stifled heat of the room making her head pound like a mallet to her brain. It wouldn’t have been possible for her to feel shittier this morning than if she had been drinking all night to prepare for the mother of all hangovers, and yet, the fact that she’d been without _any_ alcohol for over forty eight hours made the whole experience a joke. She held out a hand in front of her, watching it shake with a detached disdain. This was pathetic. Giving up drinking was meant to be a step in a stronger direction, like deciding to remove wheat from her diet, but here she was exhibiting full-on symptoms of withdrawal that she’d watched her father go through, perhaps over a dozen times, before he ever got sober. The idea scared her for a moment, that maybe she wouldn’t be able to cut it, would have to go crawling back into a bottle because her willpower had shrunk to the size of a pea.

 

_Jesse did it._

                The voice came to her unheeded, but it was unmistakably her son, that note of flippancy that he used with her, as if she were too slow or too dull to come up with the answer, ringing in her head.

 

 _Jesse was locked away in a hole in the ground to help him stay clean. Plus, drugs are different,_ she argued, knowing full well that Flynn wouldn’t have bought that line, either. But it wasn’t even true. She suddenly recalled what Jesse had revealed the night before, after she had managed to get him to talk a bit more about his recovery. The date of his official end to substance abuse had come into question.

 

                “Yeah, I was high when I went to torch your house,” he had repeated as he recounted the timeline. “Bought some coke off a friend of mine to make sure I’d go through with it. But … but that wasn’t the last time. I didn’t have a choice later. I was sort of given some … _opportunities_ to ingest the meth I was making for them. The Nazi fucks. More than a few of ‘em really dug our product, you know what I’m sayin’? Weren't exactly the consummate professional-type.”

 

                It had shocked her to hear it. She hadn’t been able to get much more out of him, but the realization that he had escaped from that compound, escaped police detection, made it all the way across the country and parts of Canada to make it to this middle-of-nowhere burg, and then had the added struggle of getting clean all over again, had floored her. It was humbling to think of what he’d been up against, and yet somehow had arrived to this point where he was not only drug-free, but actively trying to help her attain sobriety, too. Sklyer felt awed when he’d told her last night, but this morning was another matter.

 

                In the light of day, it felt like he’d been rubbing the news in her face, or more like salt in a wound. He’d fucked her and then ran away to his little safe place before she’d even closed her eyes. Oh, and the bath, of course. How could she forget the sound of water booming through the house as he filled his tub, all so he could scrub off her cooties? It had galled her to hear it, to feel like he was making a point that he needed to cleanse himself after being with _her_ : the normal, decent mother who spent most of her life as a contributing member of a law abiding society, _not_ the degenerate junkie who fucked random girls while he was in altered states, or the meth dealer who made a horrible chemical that destroyed lives. Just thinking about it had her seething again.

 

 _Skyler, he’s not some rabid dog._ Of all the voices that occasionally popped into her head, Walt’s was the absolute last one she was willing to listen to. His insistence on _reason_ came back to taunt her, and she hastened to get out of bed to avoid it, as if he were there in the room and she simply had to flee it and close the door. She made her way through the small house, her need for coffee all-consuming, but stopped midway to the kitchen and redirected her path to the bathroom, instead. Leaning over the bathtub, she flipped a handle to stopper the drain and turned on the hot water at full blast. A bath was exactly what she needed.

 

                She came out of the room an hour later, feeling slightly better as she rubbed her hair with a towel, wrapped up in her robe with some of Jesse’s tube socks on her feet. The coffee was waiting for her in the pot, just as she’d timed. She found the aspirin bottles overhead and palmed three of the tablets. With his newfound commitment to healthier options, Skyler was surprised that Jesse even had any in the house. It made her consider that there might be other forms of analgesics he kept around, as well. Maybe an emergency stash of them. Perhaps, he hadn’t been completely truthful when he’d informed them he didn’t have any liquor or marijuana in reserve. Jesse’s will wasn’t exactly iron-clad.

 

                The wand-waving sound from her phone alerted her to a message. Marie was checking in with her again. Skyler would make sure she talked to Holly this time; she’d never gotten back to her sister after dinner, afraid to break the spell once she’d been able to cajole Jesse into speaking about his rehab days. Their conversation had been reflective and surprisingly warm until it invariably wound back to Walt, which hadn’t been her intention but he tended to arrive organically into every question she posed. Jesse had reacted by turning his head in her lap after a while, to concentrate on those spots that were likely to get her to shut up. It had worked, of course, the pair of them stumbling back to Jesse’s bed with a shared eagerness in removing her clothes. There were no further attempts on her part to separate him from his top, and he seemed grateful for it, if she were to glean as much from the enthusiasm he displayed towards her body. It was the _after_ part that made her grit her teeth when she thought about his rapid exit.

 

                Skyler would find a way to make him stay with her all night, if it killed her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “Aha! I _knew_ _it_ , Pinkman!”

 

                She had found the tan bottle in his closet, the prescription label calling to her like a buoy from a lighthouse as she’d peeled back the plastic. It had been wrapped in a bag on the shelf above his clothes, the crinkling sound making her heart flutter when she’d prodded his sweaters. The fact that it was hidden had to mean they were the good pills. Skyler peered closer to the label, trying to make out the name from the faded type. Ativan—a low dose, at that. It wasn’t what she was hoping for, but it could at least help with her nerves. She climbed down from the stack of books she had used as a make-shift step, already pressing down on the safety cap before her foot hit the floor.

 

                 Her disappointment spiked as she looked inside. Less than a handful remained. She jiggled the bottle, hoping more would appear like a magic trick. A few of them were only half-tabs, making the find even less joyous. She snapped the lid on and put the bottle in her cardigan pocket, her mouth a tight line. Skyler had been all over his house with a fine-tooth comb and this was all that her efforts had garnered her. Her aggravation shot to a dangerous level, bile in her throat as her nerves screamed for one fucking miserable drink, holy goddamned hell. It felt downright barbaric for her to have to be put through this farce. Her headache had continued to make her more nauseous as the day had gone on, and here it was lunchtime and she hadn’t been able to get one scrap of food past her lips.

 

                She sat on Jesse’s bed and wiped her face with her hands. An inventory of the things she’d discovered ran through her head. The knife under the mattress had been disturbing at first, but then it had made a specific kind of sense after a moment, the thought reiterating that she wouldn’t want to be out here alone without a weapon, either. The fact that she had a gun in her purse for that very reason seemed to make a case for Jesse having something to protect himself with, and she’d left it where it lay as she moved on to another area. There had been some envelopes in the bottom of a drawer, under his clothes, that were addressed to Jake Pinkman, the New Mexico address written in what she took to be Jesse’ s handwriting. They showed no stamps, no postage marks, and when she looked at the backs they weren’t even sealed, letting her assume that these might never get sent. There were almost a dozen, all containing fat packets of notepaper. For a brief second, she had considered opening one, but then put it back quickly and shut the drawer, fearing that she might cross a line that held no return.

 

                The nightstand next to his bed no longer played home to the photograph of Andrea and the child, but the cuffs were still there, like twin traps waiting to seize hold of something, and Skyler wondered again at their origin. He’d offered to let her tie him up, she hadn’t forgotten that, and this little nugget seemed like it required further examination into Pinkman’s needs.

 

                The shed had seemed a likely place to find _something_ illicit, but other than his tools and heavy bundles of wood, she’d come across nothing of interest outside of the chest he had started. It had been freezing, however, and the earlier suggestion she’d had of attempting a walk into town, anyway, and the hell with the distance, had quickly evaporated in the face of the extreme sub-temperature. There would likely be the good soul who could give her a ride if she set upon the road, but that involved a whole lot of risk and a firm faith that she had accrued some luck along the way.

 

                 Currently, the only thing she had any faith in was Jesse’s ability to get her mind off of her troubles in the time that it took for him to build up her climax. The explosion of pleasure only lasted twenty seconds at the most, which made the act a poor substitute for the fluid confidence that her vodkas with breakfast could sustain for hours. She’d felt needy and unhinged as she rode him, whether on his face or pelvis, and the message flashing in her brain, like a neon fire exit, that he was in control of the situation continued to mock her. She recognized the way that Jesse would turn her sexual aggression around, how he would initiate certain acts as a way to take the lead in the same way that she had turned Walt’s deluded approach to romance after Gus into a quick toss-off, or if he persisted, a blowjob. At least then, she had been running the show, and Walt’s often wounded expression after it was over would be something she took as a win. But seeing it in Jesse only invited self-loathing. Skyler didn’t deserve to be the bad guy. She had never done anything to hurt Jesse, like attempt to set his house on fire, or help destroy her family. If they were going to continue screwing, then Jesse was going to get something out of it, too.

 

                Skyler stood up and stretched, pulling her hair into a knot on her head. There were saucepans and Tupperware all over the kitchen floor from her inspection of his cupboards and she had some cleaning up to do before he arrived home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Seriously, Pinkman?! Are you kidding me with this shit?”

 

Her voice boomed into the empty house for a third time, her disgust oozing from her as she turned away from the kitchen, arms crossed at her chest.  It was close to six o’clock. The drapes in the living room were still parted and the black box inside the window panes reflected a picture of her sitting on the bench, her shoulders straight while she tapped a foot against the coffee table. Light would arc from one side of the window to the other each time a car passed, but the road was too far away for her to gauge whether they were turning into the path to the house.

 

One of the Ativan had already been put to use but it had only succeeded in knocking her out for several hours. She’d awakened to find it dark outside with no sign of Jesse, even though he was due home, and her grogginess had only exacerbated her mood. Skyler had contemplated their dinner options while she stood in front of his refrigerator, not finding inspiration in any of the available ingredients. She’d made a mental note to take him shopping and show him how to fulfill the four basic food groups, hoping that he would at least come home with another bag of groceries. But an hour later, there was still no sign of him.

 

 Skyler had then proceeded to change into a snug-fitting dress, putting on heels and makeup to give him the full treatment. She’d make him beg for it tonight. As a tall woman, her ability to be imposing was something that she counted as a blessing, but it had taken her a while to reach that epiphany. The story had been much different when she was still the gangly teenager that towered over her classmates, feeling like she’d have to knock boys over the head and drag them to her lair if she wanted them to pay any attention to her. It was one of the things that had immediately attracted her to Walt, the way he would compliment her as ‘ _statuesque_ ’ and ‘ _majestic_ ’ when she came to his table, his delight in her height so evident when he would take her out on dates. After they’d been married, he’d encourage her to wear the highest heels she could stand, pleased with the way the men would gawk at them whenever they went to one of his lab functions. The sex would always be fantastic afterwards, like she had passed some sort of test and he was giving her a reward.

 

Thinking about sex only made her angrier. If Jesse didn’t get home soon, she might even consider withholding it. Skyler held out her hand again. It still shook with a siege of tiny tremors, making her grip her wrist to keep it steady. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be withholding a goddamned thing.

 

She had just reached down to pick up her pack of cigarettes, the lighter tucked in the wrapper, when she heard the belching ticks of an engine rolling up from the driveway. Instantly, she leapt from the bench to make her way to the door, but turned after a few steps and returned to her seat, crossing her arms and legs again as she posed for his entrance.

 

A minute later, a key clacked at the lock and then the door was opening and Jesse was stepping through. There were no groceries in his arms. He was empty-handed, in fact, and even worse, he bore no guilt in his face. He took two steps into the room and then froze when he saw her, his mouth spreading into a grin that was both wondrous and heart-stopping to gaze upon. It fucking hurt to look at him.

 

“Whoa. _Wow_. We going somewhere? You look … you look really— _wow.”_

 

Skyler stood up, her arms still crossed. “Where the fuck have you been?” she began in a tone icier than the permafrost of the arctic tundra.

 

Jesse’s smile immediately fell away into belligerence. “Uh, excuse me? I didn’t know I had a curfew, Mom.”

 

“Curfew? Really? That’s the best you can do, come up with jokes? I’ve been sitting here thinking you were lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding and broken, and all you’ve got for me is a pissy comeback? Way to go, Pinkman. I couldn’t even _call the police_ to make sure you hadn’t been in an accident!” Her voice kept getting louder but her rage had been stewing in a canister filled with gaseous poison and now the lid had just been blown off.

 

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Skyler. Holy crap, where the hell is this coming from? You’re worried I was in a ditch? Are you for real? I had shit to do, yo.” He turned away from her to hang up his coat, but Skyler was only just getting started.

 

“I’ve been _stuck_ in this house all day! Trying not to lose my mind!” she screeched. “You would think you could at least give me the _courtesy_ to warn me that you’d be coming home a little later. But I guess I don’t warrant a second thought? Is that it?! I’m okay to _fuck,_ but _God forbid_ you should have to talk to me, or spend a whole night with me, or even take the _two seconds_ out of your day it would require to call me so that I don’t get upset when you don’t come home at your usual time – ooohhh no! Because why would you ever do that? Why placate me, huh?   _I’m_ just the hysterical _bitch_ that you can’t wait to get rid of!”

 

Jesse was immobile as he watched her unleash her tirade, his expression molded into alarm. When she finished, she flumped on the couch, feeling like she was ready to sob uncontrollably, but she grabbed for her cigarettes instead, her hands visibly shaking.

 

“Um … are you alright? Like, what happened?” He stepped forward hesitantly, hands out as if he were approaching a skittish animal. “Let’s just start over again, nice and calm.”

 

Skyler took a long drag, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling with the shuddering force of her anger. She really did need to calm down if she was going to execute her plan for the evening. She took another deep breath. “Where were you?” she croaked, much quieter this time.

 

“I, uh, had an appointment. A doctor thing. You were right there when he reminded me.”

 

She visualized the card on Jesse’s fridge. “That was at lunchtime, though. Not after work. Did you reschedule or something?” Her voice remained frosty.

 

Jesse looked away from her, his frame seeming to shrink as she waited for an answer. “Um, yeah … it was, uh … he just wanted to go over some stuff after my shift was done. We ended up … you know, he bought me dinner and all. Sorry, I didn’t bring you anything, but he was paying and it seemed kind of rude.”

 

“You go to dinner with your doctor often?” There was plenty implied in her tone but Jesse appeared to ignore it.

 

“He’s just nice like that. What was I gonna say? You’re not supposed to be here, remember? I tell him I’ve got a guest at home, he’s going to get suspicious. Plus, he’s my landlord, _duh._ ”

 

“Fine. But I want a way to get a hold of you. If I need to buy you a phone, then I will, but it’s for my protection as well as yours that we have a means of communication. As you just pointed out, no one knows I’m here except you and my sister, and Marie can’t do a whole lot for me where she’s at were anything to happen, so … I think it’s a fair request.”

 

He stood in front of her, on the other side of the coffee table. “Yeah, okay, that’s cool. I got a burner for work, so you don’t have to buy anything. I’ll give you the number.  _You can give me yours._ I keep it in my truck, in case I need to reach my boss or they have to call me. You know, you gotta have a phone number to go on forms and all. But I don’t really use it, so I forget I have it.” He tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “We good now? Anything else you wanna yell at me about?”

 

She took another long inhale off her cigarette, putting less force in the release. The smoke swirling in front of her had a mesmerizing effect. “I’ve been having a rough day. I’m sorry I lost my temper. I think I need some more of your tea.”

 

Jesse started eagerly for the kitchen. “Yeah, no probs. Whatever you want. Did you eat yet? Want me to get you some soup, too?”

 

She stood up. “Don’t worry, Jesse. I’ll do it myself. You go change, or bathe, or whatever you do to relax. I just … I’m fine, now.”

 

He came over to her and then gingerly rubbed his hands along her arms. “You sure? You look so pretty. I feel like I should be taking you out clubbing or something.”

 

“Actually, there’s something you _can_ do for me,” she said cryptically. “But let me make the tea first. You go and get comfortable.”

 

His eyes stayed on hers for a moment, looking slightly worried. But he nodded to her and then strode towards the bedroom. She listened to him opening and closing drawers for a beat before making a beeline for the kitchen, dipping her hand in the pocket of her cardigan to close a fist around the hard plastic of the prescription bottle.

 

When he came back out, she had two steaming cups ready. He wore his sweats and a ratty tee-shirt with a long-faded skull on the front. Skyler walked into the living room bearing her offering with a less hostile demeanor. “I made some for you, too. Doctor visits are never fun. Figured you might need to relax, as well.”

 

He took the cup she handed to him. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s a little … it’s mostly just a check-up. For stuff.  He asks a lot of questions, though, so you know … it can get pretty tense.”

 

Skyler let his words hang in the air, debating whether she should acknowledge what Jesse was obviously trying to tell her. There was only so much she could pretend not to notice.

 

“What prompted you to go see him? If—if that’s okay to ask.”

 

Jesse stared into his cup as he blew on the surface. “I didn’t really _go_ to him. He kinda found me.”

 

It was an intriguing sentence but Skyler refrained from inquiring further, taking a sip of her tea as she studied him through half-lidded eyes. The clock ticked a dozen times and he still sat quietly, adding nothing more to his opening.

 

“So. Would it be possible for … I need to get some supplies. I thought, perhaps, we could devise some way that you could bring me to someplace in town that’s sparsely populated, where we could split up and meet later? Like, via some back roads or somewhere we can avoid detection? I can’t exactly borrow your truck for the day.”

 

“You could write me a list. I don’t mind shopping for you,” he said.

 

Skyler made a face and shook her head. “No, I’m thinking some of these items might look a bit strange for you to be buying. Especially in a small town where people like to notice things.”

 

“Oh. What, like, tampons or something?” His expression turned wary.

 

She smiled tightly. “Just _items_ , Jesse.”

 

“Hmm. But not, like, any Jack Daniels, or Seagrams, or whatever was your poison. None of that, right?”

 

“Are you policing me?” she asked coolly, taking another sip of her tea in the hopes that he would follow suit.

 

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? You just had a major freak-out on me, man. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re a little hot for a refreshment.” He paused, peering closer to her face. “You already case the joint?”

 

Her cheeks burned. “I don’t know what you mean. Isn’t that something burglars do?”

 

“Yeah, and I’m guessing if I was hiding a stash, you’d definitely be helping yourself.”

 

“Jesse, I told you, I’m not an alcoholic. I’m not my father. I’m just weening myself off, and … it got a little hairy, I’ll admit. I was definitely feeling … cranky.”

 

“ _Cranky?_ This—” he pointed to her on the couch—“was cranky? Seriously? No wonder Walt let you wear the pants. You’re a real piece of work, lady.”

 

They glared at each other, Skyler feeling as though the two of them were at an impasse. It was grating to hear him talk about her that way, but she also needed a defense. She sighed heavily and turned away in profile. “Alright. I went through your house. And I found something.”

 

“Bullshit. I never bought nothing into this place. Not even liquor, until you guys showed up. If anything, I should be checking _your_ shit. But I guess if you’d had a bottle in your suitcase, we wouldn’t have had these last few nights of your sparkling personality, huh? Gotta say, Skyler, I think I like you better when you’re drunk.”

 

“Thanks,” she told him acidly. “Thanks so much, Jesse. And you’re just a little ray of sunshine.” Skyler stood up with foreboding, as if she were about to reveal a major piece of evidence to a jury. “But I’m not talking about liquor.” She walked past him smoothly and marched towards his bedroom. “Drink up your tea before it gets cold,” she said over her shoulder.

 

When she came back out, Jesse was sitting back against the couch drinking from his cup. He looked up, his agitation still plainly scrawled on his face and appearing ready for another argument, but when Skyler set the cuffs on the coffee table, he jumped up quickly in surprise. Tea sloshed from his cup onto the carpet.

 

“What the hell?! Dammit.” Jesse put his cup on the table and looked at the wet spot on the floor, waving his hand out to indicate the mess. “Look at this. God _dammit_. What the hell were you thinking going through my nightstand? Everyone knows that’s where you keep your lube and your sex toys. That’s a total invasion of privacy, bitch!”

 

“I was looking for a pencil,” she said dryly. “How long were you planning on not telling me?”

 

He stood up to go to the kitchen, storming back into the room with a dishtowel. Jesse dropped to his knees to mop up the tiny spill. “Tell you what? There ain’t nothing to tell.”

 

“Really? You don’t have any urges to get dominated, Jesse? Telling me that I can do whatever I want to you, no matter how base or disgusting? Is that what you were hoping for? Do you have some kind of _thing_ now, from your time in captivity? What on earth are these for? And _who the hell_ used them on you?”

 

He gaped back at her, frozen in mid-swipe as he kneeled on all fours. He shook his head a few times to jog loose his stupor, and with a long sigh, sat back wearily on the sofa.

 

“Newsflash, but … you’re not the only person I’ve hooked up with since I’ve been here.”

 

“Gee, I’m gutted,” she drawled with sardonic precision.

 

“Whatever. It was just something that got left over. I’m not … like, that’s not my thing, okay? I don’t need _anyone_ else taking away my free will. Got it? I was just … going through a rough time and … I got involved with someone I should have stayed away from. _Obviously.”_

 

“Was it your doctor friend?” The words sprung from her lips before she could rein them in, but her curiosity was overwhelming. She was desperate to know what was up with those two.

 

Jesse’s astonishment was almost comedic, his mouth dropping open and eyes wide like a cartoon of a shocked person. She sat next to him, putting a hand on top of his. “You can tell me. If it’s something … bad, I want to help, Jesse. But if you need this … then you shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

 

His mortification didn’t appear to wane in the face of her assurances. “What the—why would you—I don’t even know why you would say that.” He pulled his hand away from hers. “I’m not … I ain’t that … oh my God.” Jesse bent forward and groaned into his hands. “I didn’t fuck him, okay? _Oh my God_ , are you really asking me this?” He turned to her with haunted eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

 

“Jesse, I’m not passing judgment. I just assumed because …. Well, he came across as very _enamored_ of you, that’s all. I got the impression that he was gay.” Jesse didn’t look appeased. “I’m sorry if I jumped to the wrong conclusion. It wouldn’t be anything … to be ashamed of, if it had happened. I’m sure it’s been very lonely out here for you.”

 

He shot her another horrified look, but the fact that he wasn’t having a complete meltdown, or demanding that she leave, was a positive sign. She watched him emit a shaky breath before dropping back against the couch and felt him loosen just the slightest bit.

 

“Look, I’m not stupid, okay? I get that he … likes me.” He rubbed a hand to his forehead. “But he didn’t bring the handcuffs. That was some chick from this bar I used to check out. Katya. She was totally nuts, though, so I didn’t go out with her for long.”

 

“What do you mean? What happened?”

 

Jesse didn’t face her, but kept his eyes to the ceiling. “She was cool, at first. I started going to her bar, ‘cause I was still needing to go to bars at the time and they’re, like, on every fucking corner here, but this girl … she started flirting with me the first time I went in there. Gave me a free drink. Talked to me about funny stuff, and she had this wicked Russian accent. I wasn’t expecting the attention. You know, I was … I was messed up pretty bad still, but she was just really nice to me, and I got the message loud and clear that she was digging me.”

 

Skyler held her breath as he reached up to take what was left of his tea and cradled it in his hands. Jesse cricked his jaw from left to right, letting his head loll back against the couch before taking a sip.

 

“I, uh, I liked how she didn’t have a bunch of tats all over her, she was just normal looking. No weird hair colors, just lots of heavy eyeliner and these, like, perfect eyebrows. They were crazy. I was … I had reached a point where I just needed … I just needed some fucking contact with a person or I was gonna go, like, balls out, straitjacket _loco_ , you know? So, I kept going back there, even though I had this limit I was being real strict about. But the last few times, alls I’d order would be a Coke or something, just so I could hang out with her. And after the fourth or fifth visit, she asked me to come home with her after her shift was over.” He slurped some more tea, propping his feet on the table as he scooted his body lower. “So I did.”

 

Jesse gazed into his cup. “How much honey you put in this? That’s really sweet.”

 

“I didn’t know how much you liked,” she said, noticing it was nearly finished.

 

“Well, anyway … the first time, she held me down and was _super_ aggressive.” He glanced up at her in recognition. “Which you might know a thing or two about. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.” He paused with the slightest trepidation, gulping the last of his drink. “I, uh, had a _bad reaction_ to someone, earlier. I was a little nervous about going to her place, ‘cause I was worried about what I might do.”

 

Skyler frowned imagining what that implied, but she knew better than to ask before he was ready. She didn’t want anything to stop the flow of information while Jesse’s lips were loose. “And so the first time was uneventful?”

 

“Well,” he shrugged with ambivalence, “she kept trying to choke me, but it wasn’t like, choke-me-choke-me, just trying to get me off, I guess. Her hands were so little. She wanted me to come see her on the next night, too, then meet her at her house after, but I couldn’t do it. It was too soon for me to be back in a bar. I have to separate every visit by a few weeks, at least, sometimes more, let things work their way out of my system. So I asked her if she’d come see me, figuring that she’d tell me forget it when I told her how far out I was.” He put the empty cup on the table and rolled on his side, facing her.

 

“You’d think I’d be smarter about inviting strangers to my home, but I guess I was kind of desperate. And she was really hot. But anyway, she came to my place, and we’d just barely gotten into my room and she’s asking me if I’ve been a bad boy.” He rolled his eyes. “I know, pretty lame, right? She gets all dreamy-eyed when she sees my bed and tells me she wants to handcuff me to the frame. But I already got the vibe that she was a bit of a freak, so, you know, it wasn’t exactly a big surprise or anything. And I thought, sure, why not? No big whoop. Like I said, I was used to it, and I’d made her drive all the way out here. Figured it was the least I could do, and it wouldn’t hurt anywhere near as much with her.”

 

“But it got worse, I’m guessing?”

 

“Well, I don’t know about worse. I mean, I actually kept an erection, so that made me pretty happy. It doesn’t always work. And at first, having her cuff me – I really didn’t mind it. It was almost … I mean, don’t think I’m weird or anything, but it was kind of _comforting._ Familiar, I guess you could say, but … nicer. I mean, these are, like, fur-lined, and shit. And this girl, she really, really dug being in control. Which, you know, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been with that kind of woman before; chicks who like to tell you what they want you to do to them. So, no, that time wasn’t so bad, either. Plus, she, uh, respected my boundaries.”

 

Skyler took that as another dig at her. “You’re telling me this woman was some kind of dominatrix but that she had no problem with you insisting that your shirt stay on? Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

 

He shrugged again. “Believe what you want to believe. She liked to fuck me with all my clothes on, actually. It got her wet.”

 

She arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “O-kay. I’ve never heard that one before.”

 

“ _Oh my God, then it must not exist_ ,” he whispered facetiously. She nudged his thigh with her shoe. “Keep going.”

 

“Yeah, so fourth time’s the charm, in this case. She waited till the next time I was at her apartment to pull out all the stops. Her closet was _ridiculous_. It was like, weapons of mass destruction, in there. Unfortunately, I didn’t _know that_ until after she’d already cuffed me to her wall. There were, like, manacles and shit nailed into it. She starts bringing out the toys like it’s a fucking parade: first with a ball gag, then with an entire set of paddles, like a size for every occasion, or something. By the time she brought out the strap-on, I was pretty much over her. Had to con my way out of there with some pretty fast talking, but I didn’t get rid of her that easy. Took me a while to shake her, and I ended up needing some help. Fucking psycho bitch.”

 

It was quiet for a bit while she ruminated on the snatches of insight he had given her. “So … you liked it, at first? When all she did was chain you to the bed?”

 

“I didn’t say _liked_. It didn’t bother me. Big difference.”

 

“You said it _comforted_ you, Jesse. _Very_ big difference. Bondage can be comforting to many people for a lot of reasons. I mean, you even _offered_ to have it done to you again, when you asked me what I wanted. I find that very interesting, considering your experience.”

 

But Jesse simply glared at her. “What are you, my psychiatrist now? You don’t know shit about my experiences. We really gonna keep talking in circles about this, or are you gonna ask me what you’ve been dying to ask me since you found those?”

 

“And just what is it that you think I want to ask you?”

 

“Oh, come on, already. I told you not to talk to me like I was stupid. Fucking you and Walt, no wonder you were together. I used to think you were out of his league, but you know what? You guys were _perfect_ for each other.”

 

Her first instinct was to play innocent, hurt by his hurled invective, yet she could hear his plea reverberate through the accusations so plainly, that her guile fell away into abdication. Skyler stood up to retrieve the leather bracelets from the table and then held out a hand to him.

 

“Okay, then, Jesse, we’ll do it your way. But first you have to come with me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “So, uh, you sure you know what you’re doing?’

 

                Jesse looked down to end of the bed where she was pulling his socks off his feet. Her heels had already been tossed on to the top of her open suitcase, and she climbed onto the mattress on all fours with a sleek ferocity.

 

                “I think I can figure it out, Jesse,” she said as she crawled over him, fingers quick to undo the drawstring at the top of his pants.

 

                “Well, it’s just that—you shoulda probably let me wash up first, you know. And this,” he tugged the line tying him to the wrought iron frame of his bed. “This isn’t very tight.” The leather bracelets were snug around his wrists, but the thin belt from her dress had been run through the metal ring that clasped them together and then double-looped around the top bar, leaving enough slack that Jesse still had some mobility of movement. His arms were lashed over his head, but with pillows doubled up under his back so that he was comfortable.

 

                “I’m not trying to make it painful. Just relax and stop complaining.” In one fluid motion, she pulled his sweats down past his feet and dropped them to the floor. He wore nothing underneath, and was already displaying a healthy interest in the proceedings, making Skyler eager to get back above him. “Besides, I like the way you smell.” Her hand curled around him and upward in a smooth glide. Jesse tensed his body at first, then relaxed into what she was doing.

 

                “Your hands are cold,” he explained. “Maybe I should go take a piss before you go any further?”

 

                Skyler abruptly ceased her handjob. “Gosh. You really know how to set the mood, Pinkman.”

 

                “Aw, gee, I’m sorry, is all this supposed to be romantic?” he sassed. “And fucking stop calling me that. How many times I gotta tell ya?”

 

                She ignored his bitching and lowered her head, leaning down to kiss the crease that bordered his groin and leg. She’d never noticed the gash on the inside of his thigh before, running parallel to a testicle, and she grew cold at the thought of what lay under his shirt. She pressed her lips marbled scar.

 

                Jesse lifted up his head and jostled her with a jerk of his hip. “Hey, what are you doing? That’s … that’s not a good idea, man. Why don’t you come up here, where I can see you.”

 

                Moving further up his body, Skyler kissed the cotton over his belly before taking in his worried expression. “Jesse, what is your problem with this? I’ve never seen a man work so actively to avoid a blowjob. I just want to suck your cock, for Christ’s sake, I’m not trying to steal your soul.  What is it that you need to see so badly?”

 

                He attempted a shrug with his bound arms, making his biceps flex. She could see another bruised mark on his flesh, highlighted by the bedside lamp—a purplish jagged line disappearing into the cuff of his tee-shirt above his armpit. “I just need to see your face, okay? Or you know, just turn around. That’ll work.”

 

                She straightened up, staring at him in complete confusion. “Turn around?” Skyler looked behind her to the wall. She still didn’t get it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

                “Oh my God. Do I really gotta spell it out?” Fingers danced from their constrained position to point downwards to his chest. “Your snatch up here, _comprende_? Ever hear of a six and a nine? Ringing any bells for ya?”

 

                Warmth flooded her skin, and she cast her eyes down to the skull grinning at her from Jesse’s shirt. “Um, that’s a little … awkward, in this position. I mean, I’d … well, it’s a little bit undignified.” Particularly with her height, the entire vision of it just appeared ridiculous in her head.

 

                Jesse surprised her with his laugh. “ _Undignified_?” The deep chuckle made his torso vibrate under her hands. “Holy shit. You poor thing. This really explains a lot. Walter must have been the _worst_ fucking lay in the history of the universe. I mean, didn’t he do anything for you?” His expression went from amused to uneasy in a flash. “Uh, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear anything about that, actually.” He shuddered in revulsion as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh fuck, I just got a picture. Oh my god.”

 

                Skyler lightly punched at his chest. “Hey, stop that. The sex used to be great between us, okay? Walter was a very commanding lover.”

 

                Jesse made gagging noises in his throat. “Stahhhhp! Ughgawd, that’s—that’s so disturbing.”

 

                She gripped him in her hand again, squeezing tightly. “I’d watch what you say. I’ve literally got you by the balls, mister.”

 

                “Whatever, man. So, you gonna fuck me, or what? Let’s get this going already.” Jesse yawned suddenly, his mouth wide open as he twisted his head. “Crap. Sorry about that. I don’t know why I’m so tired all of a sudden.”

 

                Skyler tensed, waiting for the inevitable. His leg started to shake underneath her, his nervous energy making him fidgety. She wondered how much time she had left before his drowsiness completely took over. It had only been a half dose. Just enough to keep his reactions muted. His attitude, unfortunately, was not quite what she had been hoping for.

 

                “Well, how about we just talk for a minute?” Skyler shifted her weight so that she was sitting lower on his thighs, forcing his legs still. Her hands were planted on either side of his waist, the bottom of his tee resting close to her thumbs.

 

                “Talk? For real? Yo, you’re really not cut out for the kink much, are you? Maybe you should let me out of these and I can show you some things that’ll really blow your hair back. I bet you’re a squirter and you don’t even know it.”

 

                Skyler closed her eyes, reaching for her patience. “Jesse, can you please shut up for a minute.”

 

                “Oh, I gotta shut up now? I thought you just said you wanted to talk? Make up your mind, yo.” He yawned again. “Fuck, I’m gonna fall asleep if you don’t get things moving soon. My dick isn’t even hard anymore.”

 

                She was ready to grind her teeth into powder, her jaw so tight it was making her mouth ache. There had to be a way to approach things a bit more directly.

 

                “I think you’re full of shit,” she told him, with the blunt of a hammer to a kneecap.

 

                He scowled at her. “ _I’m_ full of shit? Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Miss-I-Ain’t-No-Alcoholic-I-Just-Like-My-80 Proof-With-Breakfast.”

 

                “Okay, fine, we’ll start there, then. I have a drinking problem, you’re absolutely right. But I have this problem because I can’t be honest with myself. About what I did, how I got involved with Walt’s business, and most importantly, _why_ I did it. And I’ve felt for a long time that I had no way to _unburden_ myself, that no one else could really fully understand what happened, and how complicated this whole mess is, so I just continued drinking, burrowing further into my little hole of misery. But it’s not really true, is it, Jesse? There _is_ someone else who understands, who knows what Walt was like by the end. And that person is you.”

 

                By the end of her speech, the entire length of Jesse’s body was as rigid as a baton, and he watched her with serious intent as his chest heaved with faster breaths.

 

                “I can’t be honest with you, though, if you can’t trust me, Jesse. I want us to be honest with each other. I want us to be able to _talk_ through what happened, but you don’t want to open up about anything, you’re this tight little jack-in-the-box that I’m afraid is going to fly apart at the seams if I wind up the crank too hard. Why can’t you just let me in? You _need_ to deal with this.”

 

                “Says who,” he uttered with defiant menace, his voice low but deadly. “I’m doing just fine. I don’t need to tell you nothin’.”

 

                “Liar,” she said. Skyler snapped her fingers to her thumb, like a bird squawking. “It’s just a lot of this, a lot of empty talk, and jokes, and whatever you need to tell yourself to make it work. But _something_ happened to you, Jesse. And you’re never going to make peace with it if you don’t face it head on. You can’t keep running from it. It’s not just what happened with Walt, but what happened with those criminals. I know it was bad, Jesse.”

 

                His eyes had narrowed to slits, peering at her through a fog of hatred so thick that she worried she hadn’t given him enough of the sedative. Things had the potential to get very ugly, very quickly.

 

                “You don’t know shit, lady. Now get the fuck off of me and get me out of these things.”

 

                “No, Jesse. I want to see you.”

 

                He stared in the direction of the door, his eyes unseeing of anything while his jaw clenched with his fury. Suddenly, he started tugging violently on his shackles, a scream in his throat. He closed his eyes. “Fucking bitch. You are such a fucking. _Bitch._ ”

 

                “You need to trust me on this, Jesse. It’s going to get better. But first you have to face what you went through.”

 

                Jesse started to rock his head back and forth. “ _Nononono, no._ Don’t wanna see it.” He opened his eyes as if he’d just been startled awake. “ _Whathefuuuck,”_ he slurred. “Something’s wrong.”

 

                “A lot is wrong. For both of us. Let’s start fixing it, one step at a time. Let me undress you, Jesse.”

 

                “ _No,_ ” he insisted. “That’s not what I mean. You … you did something.” His eyes narrowed again as she studied her. “The tea. You put something in there?”

 

                The moment of truth had come. Skyler steeled herself for the outcome. “I found your pills in the closet. This afternoon. I took one myself, before you got home. I only gave you a half dosage, Jesse. Just enough to keep you from … overreacting.”

 

                She didn’t know what to make of his expression, at first. He stared at her blankly as she spoke, but as soon as she uttered the last word, he grimaced at her with a mixture of incredulity and disgust. She felt his body shake under her before she heard him, his low chuckle turning into barks of hysterical laughter in the space of a second. Soon, he was pulling himself up as his body bowled over with more spasms of hilarity. Skyler recoiled, leaning far away from him as she watched his mouth twist from some sick version of merriment to an anguished howl. She felt like she was witnessing Walt in the crawl space all over again. Tears were rolling down the sides of Jesse’s face, and by the time he had laid back against the pillows, he was sobbing silently, his mouth still open in a black void of despair. She sat stunned in her spot, afraid to move.

 

                “Yeah,” he finally said in a hollow, deadened voice. “Trust. That’s what it’s all about.” He took a deep breath, sniffing in his snot. “I told you I’d been clean for a year. Guess that doesn’t mean anything to you, huh?”

 

                She winced inside, but swept away the guilt with her justifications. It had been a necessary evil, a hurdle that had to be jumped if they were to get anywhere. “That’s not true, of course it means something. But you obviously have taken these in the past. I mean, they’re prescribed to you, Jesse. And I gave you a smaller dose than I took, which wasn’t that strong to begin with. It was just to help you stay calm, so you would _listen._ ”

 

                But Jesse looked inconsolable, making her feel shittier. None of this had worked out as she’d planned.

 

                “Whyyougottaseeit,” he rambled incoherently. “ _ssugly._ _I’m ugly. Ugly person.”_ His voice sounded further and further away the more sedated he became. “I’m nothing. No one.” His breathing slowed, sounding measured and less labored. She leaned over him, her hand tentatively reaching towards his cheek. Seeing him like this made her heart lurch.

 

                “Jesse,” she whispered soothingly. “I don’t believe that.”

 

                He made a feeble attempt to shake his head. “Fine,” he murmured. “Do it.” Another one of his deep breaths made Skyler rise up from where she sat on his stomach. “ _Seeferyerself.”_ Jesse closed his eyes, his face relaxed.

 

                With his consent came a surge of anxiety. She questioned what she’d just gotten herself into. Perhaps it would have been a better course of action if she’d simply boarded a plane and gone back home to figure it all out, the realization that she hadn’t really thought this all through, what she was doing with Jesse— _to_ Jesse—hitting her with its enormity. She looked down at his body growing still as he settled into a rhythmic breathing, insensible to her dilemma. Her hands fluttered at the edges of Jesse’s hem, itching to pull it up but afraid of what she would find.

 

                “What, you chicken now?” he said suddenly, startling her so that she pulled away her hands as if she’d touched hot stone. The slight prick of annoyance gave her the last bit of courage she needed, and like ripping off a band-aid, she pulled up his shirt until it gathered under his chin. Skyler felt proud of herself—she didn’t gasp.

 

                “Pretty, huh?” Jesse said, with less bite, his tone more and more prosaic with each utterance.

 

                It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought, was the first thing that ran through her mind, the buildup to this moment having prepared her for the worst. But it was still a mess. The skin across his chest was mottled in varying colors, dark patches of reddish brown mixed with purpling streaks, to the carnation pink of the abraded scarring that still littered the entire expanse of his torso. There was even a streak of green, and Skyler had to peer closer to make out the detailing on the long, curvy line that streaked from the upper right side of his pectoral, along the breastbone. She could see what appeared to be a leg, and realized she was looking at some kind of scaly lizard, possibly a Chinese dragon. It was hard to make it out clearly, as both the head and the tail had been burned off. She put a hand out to touch the remainder of the tattoo, his skin bumpy with the ruined tissue as she ran a finger along the dragon’s body.

 

                The damage seemed excessive, and Skyler acknowledged that this had most likely happened over several sessions. She shivered at the image of it, recalling Jesse’s words to her and Marie that first night, when he’d told them he’d been beaten into giving up the existence of the confession tape. These weren’t from a mere beating, however. Jesse had been tortured. Her mind went to Todd and those men with their black masks, standing around Holly’s crib, and she shivered again, feeling her gorge rise. At least the area of his stomach remained somewhat pristine, although there were other scars below his abdomen.

 

“They did this to get information?” she asked in a shaky voice.

 

“ _Mmmm_ , _camrrra_ ,” he mumbled. He was starting to fade, but his answer jolted Skyler to the present.

 

“Camera? What? What do you mean, Jesse? What camera?”

 

“Video,” he croaked, practically zoned out. His head lolled against the inside of his arm.

 

The word seemed to issue from his lips like a spectre, and it floated over her flesh leaving the chill of the dead upon it. The idea that those men had done this for fun made her stomach flip, and she put a hand to her mouth as if she might be sick. Skyler shook on top of him, closing her eyes to the degradation of it all.

 

“My God, Jesse,” she whispered, sounding tiny and fragile. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” But the room stayed quiet. Jesse was fast asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Mommy, Jessjake sad?_

                Skyler sucked in a breath, startled from her sleep at the sound of Holly’s voice. The remnants of her dream receded in diaphanous wisps of imagery, the physical room around her becoming more real as her senses sharpened. It wasn’t quite dark anymore, but it was still early, the light flooding into the space around the bed like mist coming off a lake. Skyler rolled on her side and curled her body around Jesse’s still sleeping form, his back to her. She breathed in deeply, the scent from his neck making her almost happy. This was good, feeling the sturdiness of him next to her, and she insisted to the voice of her sister sniping at her that it had been worth it. _This_ was the fruit of her labor, getting to wake up with her arm around him, listening to his breathing sounding peaceful and content. Jesse had needed that purge, had needed to take that step. Moving forward, it would no longer be this giant thing standing in between them, his reluctance to talk about his experience. She felt positive about the possibilities. Skyler could show him her true face if she could be allowed to see his. It hadn’t been her intention to come here and develop a bond with Walter’s fugitive partner, but it was there now and it had happened for a reason. The future suddenly didn’t seem so bleak.

 

                She looked above her where her belt hung from the bedframe like a limp jump rope. Skyler had removed the restraints as Jesse slept, pulling his shirt over his head and arranging the pillows so he could lay normally. Crawling under the covers next to him, being able to hold him skin to skin, had underlined what she’d been so sorely missing: to feel truly close to someone. It wasn’t just sex with Jesse, a memo that her body had been trying to give her for a while, but her brain had been ignoring.

 

_He called you a fucking bitch, Sky. That was right before he fell asleep from being drugged by you._

 

 _Fuck off, Marie._ She didn’t want to hear it just yet, it was still too early. Sure, Jesse would probably be pissed at first, but he’d come around. If Walt had believed that all it would take was a long, sincere talk to straighten out young Pinkman, than surely she could convince Jesse that her motives had been pure.  She hadn’t poisoned anyone to get her point across.

 

                Skyler leaned back and stretched, wondering how much time she had before Jesse would have to wake up for work. She glanced over his shoulder, seeing his watch on the bedside table, but unwilling to reach over to it for fear of waking him. He needed some rest. It was cold in the room but she liked the chill on her skin, smiling as she looked over Jesse’s bare shoulders. The creeping brightness from the window showed her a face grinning back at her. Skyler moved closer to stare at the marking, seeing that Jesse had yet another tattoo.  This one appeared to be an ornately decorated skull, apparently a favorite motif of his, and she recognized it as the symbol of the _Día de los Muertos_ that appeared everywhere back home during the early month of November. But as she grew used to the light, she could see something was off about this one, too. The face seemed to be bisected by a dark line, another one perpendicular to it dipping below the sheets.

 

                She sucked in her breath again, intuiting that this was more branding from those men. God only knew what they’d done to him to create all of these angry, violent emblems as if Jesse had been some sort of canvas for them to work on. She hesitantly took hold of the sheet between them and pulled it down a fraction, seeing the whole thing in front of her with a dawning sense of horror.

 

                It was a T.

 

                She stared hard, trying to blink the evidence away, but no, it was still a T. It didn’t take much effort for her to slip the sheet lower, revealing more of Jesse’s back. At first it was clear of anything, but then she saw the other line veering down, becoming a tepee with a jagged crossing in the middle. It was primitive and it was messy, but there was no mistaking that it was meant to be an A.

 

                A clamminess crept over her, but then Skyler felt ice in the pit of her belly, her hand pressed to her mouth to keep from screaming or to keep from vomiting, she wasn’t sure which. She wasn’t even looking at his entire back, there was still more to see, and the sickening dread that brought with it had her paralyzed with fear. Skyler already knew what she would find there.

 

                Her hand now trembling, she closed a fist around the cotton and wool mixed in her grip and gave one final tug. From her position on her side, she saw the hump first, looking like it had been carved in stages so that instead of a rounded molehill, it appeared more like the topside of a diamond. But the rest of the manuscript was clean enough, the letters sliced into him with the violent spirit it had meant to impart, the message conveyed simply and effectively.

 

                R-A-T.

 

                Skyler flung herself up into a sitting position, pulling the rest of the covers from their bodies in the motion. Both of her hands covered her mouth by then, but they couldn’t stop the long moan that escaped from her, filling the room with her abject horror. Jesse stirred, holding in a breath for a moment before he started to wake. His head rolled up to his shoulder to face her direction, but his eyes remained  closed.

 

                “What is it, babe? Your dad calling?” he muttered. Skyler sat frozen to the bed, afraid to even breathe. He rolled over until he was flat on his back and she didn’t have to look at that awful word anymore. A hand banged against the mattress.

 

                “Hey.  Jane. Get up. You got your meeting.”

 

                She had no idea what he was talking about, but she continued to hope he would go back to sleep again, a deep sleep in which she could fit his shirt back over him and pretend she'd never seen this. But the next time he moved, he stretched his arms, and then pulled them suddenly close to his chest. His eyes flew open. They darted across the ceiling before looking around the room, and when he turned his head and saw her, everything seemed to fall into place for him very quickly. Jesse looked down at his nudity and his eyes grew bigger.

 

                “Fuck! God dammit!” Jesse jolted awake, glaring at her with a wild expression as he sat up. He tumbled out of bed, reaching for the nightstand as his legs tangled in the sheets. He fell to the floor with a thud, bringing the lamp down with him.

 

                “ _God....dammit!”_ he roared, springing his body up quickly as he got loose and then staggering towards the door.  He stomped his way through the living room, and when he made it to the bathroom, the force from the door slamming thundered through the house. She heard the water from the bathtub booming through the pipes and for the first time, Skyler let out her breath. She was shaking violently, her body cold but more from the shock than the temperature of the house. It took her another ten minutes just to scoot herself precariously off the bed so that she could put on a robe. Skyler didn’t know what to do or where to go or what to say, but she knew she needed a goddamned cigarette. The need for a drink was no longer a question but a part of her as essential as the blood that ran through her.

 

                When he finally came out of the bathroom, Skyler had managed to make it to the couch. She sat there in his stuffed chair with her cigarette, trying to compose herself as best she could, but knowing she was a complete mess.  Her breath caught as she saw him, the skin above the towel at his waist covered in hues of pink and red streaks like he’d rubbed it raw. He stopped in the middle of the room, but didn’t look at her, the timber of his voice ringing strong and sure.

 

                “I need you packed when I get back. I’d rather you get a taxi to take you to the airport, but if I have to do it I will. Just make sure you got everything ready, and try to leave my shit alone, if you can manage that.”

 

                “Jesse, I’m so, so so—”

 

                “I don’t want to hear another word, okay? I’m done with all of you. I just want my life back the way it was before you got here.”

 

                He left for his bedroom and Skyler could hear him moving around to get ready, still banging closet doors and drawers with as much momentum as he could give them. She sat quietly, smoking with almost every breath as she tried to shut down her nerves twanging like the scream from a violin. Everything had gone horribly wrong. Jesse came out of his room, avoiding looking in her direction again, and as he stuffed his feet into boots without even tying them, Skyler wanted to open her mouth and let the same word loose on a constant loop: _Sorrysorrysorrysorry._ She wasn’t just sorry for what she’d forced, but sorry for everything he’d suffered, everything she’d suffered, the whole damn lot of them, for Hank, for her son, even for Walt. She was fucking _SORRY_ for all of it. She screamed the word so many times in her head it became this unintelligible mess, losing all meaning.

 

                Jesse slammed the door again when he left. Skyler sat quietly and finished her cigarette with tears streaking her cheeks, the ticking of the clock the only sound heard in the house.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several tales are told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author is throwing out an early chapter, partly to make up for missing a week, and partly because she's got stuff to do this weekend.  
> Also, the author has been unwell the last three days and has had plenty of time to write.
> 
> If you commented on the early chapters and are still reading the story, the author would get a kick out of knowing that you're still getting a kick out of the story. Or not. Lots more angst on the way, but ... well, just look at the subtitle again when it gets too rough.

 

 

**_Chapter 10_ **

****

****

                “Hennings. Hey, man, Foreman wants to see you.”

 

                Jesse stopped pounding his hammer into the door frame for a moment as he looked over his shoulder. He pushed his safety goggles up over his head.

 

                “Right now? I still got this whole section to finish.”

 

                “I’m supposed to tell you he wants you in his office. That sounds like right now, to me, brother.”

 

                Jesse dropped his tools on the nearest work table and followed Gonzalez through the half-constructed rooms of the floor he’d been assigned to for the day. He felt a nervous twisting in his belly, knowing that he’d get in trouble eventually for showing up late. His boss had sounded okay about it on the phone, but he thought it had all gone a little too easy. If he was going to get written up, it would be just one more thing to lay at Skyler’s feet. She’d done enough to screw him over emotionally; he didn’t need her underhanded tactics to screw with his job, too. Having his little house empty again couldn’t happen soon enough.

 

                When they got to the ground floor, Gonzalez pointed over to the trailer that worked as the boss’s office before heading back to his own work. Jesse strode over the plywood on the ground that covered the wet, snowy mud, his boots stomping on the board making the sound reverberate through the open space. The sun was back out today, and it felt good on his face as he looked up to the sky with eyes closed. He took a deep breath to prepare for whatever corrective action his boss had in mind for him then walked through the door.

 

                There were two desks crammed tightly up at the front. Several men milled around each other, leaning over to examine and comment on purple sheets of surveys and diagrams. The coordinators, project managers, all the guys he knew nothing about, worked out of the same trailer, but the foreman’s office was further to the back. He could see the door was opened and that his boss was talking with a few men in suits. They both carried briefcases and wore hardhats, and one man laughed jovially as they all shared a joke. Jesse walked up hesitantly, feeling completely out of place and more nervous than ever. He gently knocked on the wall by the door frame. All three men looked over at him.

 

                “Hey, Mr. Lowell. You wanted to see me?”

 

                “Yeah, Jake. Just a sec, I’ll be right with you.  Let me finish up here.”

 

                Jesse gave a deferential dip of his head and moved further away to give the men some privacy. He heard their boisterous chatter grow louder as the men walked through the doorway, their conversation winding up with promises of golf games. After goodbyes, they passed him with a curt nod in his direction. He heard his boss call him in.

 

                “Jake, thanks for coming down. Why don’t you close the door and have a seat.”

 

                Jesse gulped around the dry softball that had filled his throat. Shit, that didn’t sound good. He clenched his jaw and cursed the Whites in his head once more.  Sitting down on the chair closest to the door, his hat on his lap, he felt the thousand butterflies in his stomach do a mad dance. He really didn’t want to lose this job.

 

                “I’m real sorry about this morning, again, Mr. Lowell. I don’t know what happened. I told you, I was just real sick last night and I can’t believe I slept through my alarm like that.  It won’t happen again, I promise.”

 

                “Yeah, I understand, Jake. These things happen. I appreciate you calling me as soon as you could, though. No harm, no foul, know what I’m saying? This is only, what, the second time you’ve ever been tardy since you started with us? Never missed a day? I think we can overlook it.”

 

                Jesse felt his nerves die down a bit, feeling slightly better about the reason he was in there to begin with. If he wasn’t going to get chewed out for his screw-up, then what was he about to find out? He wondered if they were scaling back on labor and he was the first on the chopping block.

 

                “Listen, kid. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a few weeks, now. Just a chance to have a little one-on-one time and discuss a few observations I’ve made. In particular, I wanted to talk to you about your job performance. I’ve seen your work. Heard a lot of really good feedback from some of the supervisors. Everyone here thinks you’re a really strong worker. You’ve been a real asset to the team, seems to be the consensus. I go over everything on this site. Your finish is impeccable.”

 

                He felt a tightening in his chest, his pride soaring. It was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Uh, thanks, Mr. Lowell. I appreciate that. I’ve—I’ve really enjoyed working here. It’s a really good group of people, you know? I’ve learned a lot.”

 

                “So I’m hearing, Jake. You don’t mind if I call you Jake, do you? I know we all call each other by last names around here, but I look at you, I think of my son. Plus, Stephen Lacey and I are golf buddies, as you know. He’s got nothing but positive things to say about you.”

 

                His face grew hot. He not only knew the Doc was friends with Lowell, it was probably how he got the job in the first place. In a small town like this, everybody seemed to know everybody, and he’d been a stranger with a major lack of information into his past.

 

                “Well, the Doc is a good man. I—I really respect him.”

 

                The older man pointed at him with a grin. “You said it, Jake. You have a real strong sense of _respect_ for people, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed. I wanted you to be aware of that.” He leaned back in his chair, the upholstery squeaking on its hinges. Lowell’s stomach rounded like a ball, taut against the buttons of his shirt as he slipped his hands to the back of his head. “I hear you do some side projects, too. Some woodcarving. Saw one of your chairs over at Sheriff Truman’s house. _Impressive_ detailing. You’re a real artist.”

 

                The praise was starting to make Jesse uncomfortable. He had run out of ideas as to what he was doing in the foreman’s office, and the anticipation made him queasy. “Thanks,” he croaked. “Just something I do for … it’s like … therapeutic.” He felt himself blush again. He was such an idiot.

 

                Lowell studied him some more before speaking, his eyes sweeping over the scar at Jesse’s eyebrow. “I see. I guess that makes sense. You, uh, look like you may have seen some … rough times, Jake. The crew thought you might be a little dangerous when you first got here.” He laughed, as if the idea were preposterous.

 

                Jesse didn’t say anything, just sat awkwardly playing with the corners of the yellow metal in his hands. Lowell cleared his throat and leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he tapped them to his desk. “Look, you obviously have the potential to be a mighty fine joiner, if that’s where your interest lies, but … I gotta say, I think you have a real future with us, Jake. Now, I know you don’t have a lot of experience—what did you say?” he lifted up a file on his desk, flipping it open as he scanned the right side, “A few votech classes in high school? Which makes it all the more noteworthy, the work you do here. Seems like you have a natural talent for it, the carpentry side.” He set down Jesse’s file and looked him over again. “You know, in this state, we have a vested interest in protecting our own pool of talent. Lot of contract workers out here, lot of transient folks coming in to Alaska for the summer to make a boatload of cash and then heading off again—when we see a local with some skill? We want to make sure that person sticks around, encourage it, you understand, Jake?”

 

                He could only nod in agreement, his curiosity now starting to overwhelm him. This was the weirdest conversation he’d had in a long time.

 

                “ _Well,_ how about I just finally get to the point, huh?” Lowell said with another too-loud laugh. “You’re probably wondering what the hell I called you here for, by now, am I right?”

 

                “I guess I am starting to wonder,” Jesse confessed.

 

                Lowell sighed heavily. “Bill Evans. He likes you. Goes on and on about you. For a quiet fella, you sure get a lot of tongues wagging. But here’s the thing. Evans, being our master carpenter around these parts, has got a lot of sway. Anything gets built around here, he’s gonna be involved. Now, Bill takes on an apprentice every few years. He doesn’t really have time to do more than that. Last guy he put through the program moved on, but he’s doing well. I think he went up to Fairbanks. Anyway, we’re thinking you might be a good fit for the apprenticeship. _If you’re interested._ It’s not something to jump into lightly. This is a three-year commitment, Jake. Evans will train you, teach you everything you need to know, and at the end of it, you take the test and get certified. Once you’re in the union, you can go anywhere in the country, but if you’re serious about this place, I think you’d find a lot of opportunities with our company. So. What do you say to all that, Jake?”

 

                Jesse had breathed in deeply as his boss spoke, holding it in tightly as he forced himself to keep the tears that had sprung in his eyes from going anywhere. He would _not_ embarrass himself by openly weeping like a little bitch. He swallowed thickly a few times, really feeling like he was about to lose it, but then he saw an image of Skyler from this morning and closed his eyes. He took another deep breath, getting himself under control.

 

                “Could I take a few days to think about it, Mr. Lowell?” he asked, his voice husky.

 

                “Of course. I would expect you to. Hell, take the weekend to mull it over. Bill is going to want to talk to you, too. Give you the hard sell. But,” he flipped his tie up and then flattened it against his shirt. “I wanted to talk to you first, since I’m the one who’s supposedly in charge.” He smiled at Jesse with an avuncular fondness. “Plus, I want to be involved in what my guys are doing, you know? I figured you deserved to hear what everyone’s been saying about you.”

 

                “Well, I really don’t know what to say, Mr. Lowell, other than, thank you, and I really, really appreciate this opportunity. It—it means a lot.” His voice cracked at the end, his throat feeling swollen, and he coughed a few times to camouflage his slip.

 

                Lowell nodded at him. “We really appreciate the work you’ve been doing for us, Jake. Your skills at your trade, but also … the men respect you. You pick up fast, and you don’t mind showing someone how it’s done if they ask. Evans says you can work any piece of equipment he shows you.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Great work, son.”

 

                Jesse stood up, eager to be out of the office and start adjusting to all of these new feelings, but he took Lowell’s hand and shook it heartily. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

 

                “I know you won’t.” Lowell smiled and then waved a hand to the door. “Now go on and get out of here. And if you get sick again, just let me know, and stay home next time, okay? We want to make sure you stay healthy.”

 

                Jesse practically ran through the door on his way to the outside.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                He rolled down the window of his truck and felt the frigid air slap his face as he poked his head out. Jesse grabbed his cigarette pack for a smoke then threw it back on the seat. He had been smoking too much. It was time to get back to cutting down, as he’d been doing before the sisters arrived. Jesse flicked on his radio as he watched the sun die over the horizon, leaving streaks of fuchsia across the sky like the top of the world had been dipped in a bowl of paint.

               

                A woman’s breathy voice snuck out of his speakers.

 

 _dead dreams dropping off the heart, like leaves in a dry season_  
_dead dreams dropping off the heart_ , _like leaves in a dry season_  
  
_how long do I take it_  
_can I start to change it_  
_you know it's been a long, long time_  
_can I grow a new skin_  
_can I try to begin again_

Jesse sucked in a sharp breath, the tears that he wouldn’t let fall earlier coming back in full force. He let them roll down his face this time, watching the road impassively as he listened to the woman sing, feeling a part of the universe and all that he’d seen but still floating adrift with the stars.

_I am always waking, I am always shaking_  
_I think I know this might not end_  
_can I dry the cold sweat_  
_get out of this mess again_  
  
_dead dreams dropping off the heart, like leaves in a dry season_  
_dead dreams dropping off the heart, like leaves in a dry season_  
  
_ease into a new box_  
_shoulder a new lot_  
_it's gonna be a long, long time_  
_a whirlwind among breezes_  
_doing what he pleases again_

                The words made him think about Walt. His mentor. His partner. The bane of his existence. There was so much he couldn’t forgive, but there had been good stuff, too. He seriously doubted he’d ever have been in the position of being commended for his work if it hadn’t been for Mr. White’s influence. Then again, he’d never have been here at all if it hadn’t been for Mr. White ruining him. He couldn’t seem to have one without the other, every little scrap of something good and decent in his life having come from the shit he was forever mired in. Apparently, God had a lot of crosses for him to bear, really wanted to drive his point home where Jesse was concerned. He must have been a real asshole in a previous life. Jesse gnashed his teeth, breathed heavy. Who was he kidding, he’d been a real asshole in _this_ life.

 

                All the times that he’d lied to his parents, because he wanted to avoid their disapproval while still having fun and devoting as much time to being a waste of space as he could. They might have written him off after a point, but he’d written himself off long before then. There had been opportunities to straighten himself out a hundred times, but he wouldn’t do it, thought he’d had a _right_ to fuck up his life, even though there were people who cared enough to want better for him. It was exhausting thinking about the many, many ways he’d screwed up.

 

                And yet some people—some people had wanted to give him a chance. Like Gus—a moment that felt like forever ago—making him dizzy for a few days with the idea that another person _saw something in him._ It may have been a master play with him as the pawn on the chessboard, but for a fleeting few weeks, it had felt good to be part of the inner circle _._ Even Mr. White had given him that feeling from time to time—a sense of worth when he got it right, that charge running through him as if the clouds had opened above him and light had poured down on him like syrup, so thrilled to be in the full flower of Walt’s benevolence like he’d been _anointed._

 

                Jesse shivered. He was being overly dramatic, probably from spending so much time with Marie. He wiped his cheek to dry it, speculating on what he’d find when he got home. Either she’d be there or not. He didn’t even know what he was hoping for anymore.

 

                He leaned back against the headrest of his seat, watching the sky grow darker, the rose fingers turning into tangerine. Skyler had fucked up pretty bad, but what kind of a hypocrite did it make him if he wouldn’t even give her the chance to explain herself? _Could_ she even explain it? What the hell had she even been thinking? He swallowed hard, reliving the feeling of complete powerlessness she had invited when she’d told him about spiking his tea. His mind flitted over the dangerous memory of the black room at the compound, how Kenny insisted he take a bump every time they started. And he’d done it because, really, the alternative had been so much worse.

 

                Yet, Skyler hadn’t known that. She didn’t know anything, really. He could see how Walt had lied to her even more than he’d lied to Jesse, how that must have made her crazy, too. And she’d been going on several days without a taste; surely, Jesse could remember how unbelievably hard it felt those first few days every time he tried to kick drugs. The first week at Serenity had been one of the most miserable times of his life. A lot of it had had to do with his guilt over killing Jane and a bunch of nameless people in that plane crash, and he’d had much, much more unfathomable misery to experience since then, but at the time it had felt like he’d never get through it.

 

 _I can’t be honest with you, though, if you can’t trust me, Jesse. I want us to be honest with each other._ Jesse made a choking noise in his mouth. That had been too much. Apparently, Skyler’s version of trust and the truth was pretty similar to Walt’s, as in, one-sided. They wanted everything from him, but gave nothing in return. He remembered seeing a picture in one of the art books he’d read at the library, of a monster sitting on a woman’s chest as she lay swooned across her bed. It was an old painting with a fancy style, but it had caught his attention because he had known how the woman in the painting felt, that weight as an evil spirit sucked him dry while he could only lie there and feel it happening. Having gone through it with Walter once already, he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to allow history to repeat with Walter’s other partner.

 

 _That’s not really true, yo. She does give you something._ And therein lay the rub. Or so, someone famous had said, according to Donna. He _liked_ Skyler. He hadn’t expected to, but in a strange way, he found her pretty fascinating. Jesse recalled feeling rather sad for her when he and Walt had dropped off the methylamine at the car wash, how Skyler had looked as trapped as he had often felt. But she had continued to surprise him again and again, her tough chick exterior kind of impossible for him not to be drawn to. If he were being straight with himself, he had enjoyed pleasuring her, the power kick that had come with making her feel things that she hadn’t necessarily been expecting to feel giving him back a little of the swagger he’d lost ( _had decimated, more like)_. She got pretty crazy between the sheets, hearing her let go was a reward in itself. That it was _Mr. White’s wife_ – had he been using her, too? Just the slightest bit, perhaps—the sex some giant middle finger to wherever Walt’s greedy ass spirit was wandering now. 

 

 _Dude, she drugged you. That’s cold._ Badger had a point, but then he thought back to the way he’d met Andrea. He went home with her with the sole intent of seducing her back on to the blue so that he could sell it to her. And why had he done that? To prove that he was a piece of shit? Because it had certainly been a pretty shitty thing to do. Andrea had been trying to better herself for her son, but she had let him in to her little family. And he returned the favor by getting her a bullet to the head. Brock had almost died because of him and now the kid had no mother. He was like some kind of angel of death, bringing destruction to every life he touched. And he was really going to get on his high horse about what Skyler had done?

 

                Jesse pulled his truck over to the side of the road, letting the engine run as he grabbed his cigarettes and pulled one to light. This whole mess was going to make him batshit insane. He couldn’t figure out a goddamned thing. The best outcome for him would be to find his house empty and no longer have to worry about any of this shit. Yet, if he found her still there … well, he had no idea what he might do. He’d wasted time at the store trying to drag the day out so he wouldn’t get home too early. Calling her to find out where she was felt too intimate of an act. It was all up to fate now.

 

                When he pulled into his driveway, he held his breath and counted, not really believing it would have any effect on what was waiting for him, but pretending for a moment that it might. He wondered if there would be a taxi waiting as he pulled up, even though the taxi service around this place was severely limited. They weren’t even real taxi cabs, in most instances; he’d seen a station wagon driving around as one. But when he drove up to the cabin, it looked like it always did, except for the melting lump of snow in his yard that had been Mr. Snowman.

 

                Jesse walked up to his front door slowly, twirling his keys in his hand as he affected a cool detachment. This was his place _(not really, in fact, he was there because the owner had wanted to fuck him)_ , and he set the rules. No one had control of him, anymore. He was his own man. If he could handle some crazy Nazis, he could deal with one, sad woman that was going through some shit. He slipped the key in the lock, feeling right away that it was open.

 

                He saw her before he had even swung the door all the way, didn’t feel any surprise at the news. She sat on the couch waiting, her suitcase upright by the table, where a laptop lay dormant at her knees. Skyler was dressed to leave, looking smart in a plaid skirt and beige turtleneck, wearing those killer boots with the high heels that secretly gave him a boner. It got him more than a little turned on when he had to look up at her, especially when she wore that smirk. But there was no smirk now. Skyler looked downright scared, her eyes darting around his face in apprehension the closer he got to her.

 

                “Jesse, I just want to say again that I’m—”

 

                But Jesse cut her off with a hand. “Don’t want to hear it,” he told her. “I just want to know what time your flight leaves.”

 

                She bent her head, staring at her knees. “I couldn’t get a flight out until tomorrow. Out of Juneau. It’s a little farther, I know, but … I booked another room at that hotel. So I can stay there tonight. I—I figured I could rent a car, again. I just …” She looked up at him with the blue of her eyes popping in the fading light of the room, “needed a lift into town.”

 

                Something in the way she held his gaze flicked a switch in him. Skyler needed to understand that he wasn’t here for her advantage, he wasn’t her plaything. He bent down and slid the table to one side, so that it skewed diagonally, dropping his keys on her laptop when he was done. He reached down to unknot his boot, kicking it off towards the dining area when it was loosened.

 

                “Are you asking me?” He repeated the steps on his other boot and flung it in the same direction, watching it roll and stop at the foot of a chair.

 

                “I’m sorry?” She sounded worried. He turned to her as he pulled off his coat, letting it flop to the floor.

 

                “I said, are … you … asking? For me to take you into town? You asking me for a favor?”

 

                Her expression remained troubled. “I—I suppose so. Didn’t you say …? I mean, yes, I would very much appreciate a lift into town. Whenever you’re ready, of course. You just drove from there, I’m sure you want a few minutes to rest before you turn around to go right back.” She shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

 

                Jesse had pulled off a sock while she spoke. When he bent his leg to get the other one, Skyler furrowed her brow, looking caught off guard. He liked that look. The sock was dropped to the floor and his hands went to his belt, quick to unbuckle it while her mouth opened to speak. No words came out. The thick flannel shirt was dropped on the floor, as well, before he grabbed the long sleeved cotton shirt underneath and pulled it over his head. It felt strange, for a chilling second, exposing himself of his own free will, but it was also a little bit empowering when he saw her face. Skyler was squirming in her seat, looking to the bedroom and then back at him again, her expression growing slightly panicked.

 

                “Um, is there … did you want to take a bath first, or—“

 

                “Lady, did I ask you to speak? You answer me if I got a question, otherwise, I just need you to do what I say, and leave the talking out of it.” His pants dropped to the floor with a metallic _thwump_ from the belt. Jesse walked to the couch, stood right in front of her and grabbed her hand. Skyler jumped in her skin, her first instinct to resist him giving way to being guided as he tugged. He put her hand to the front of his boxers, already hard before she touched him. He breathed in sharply through his nose.

 

                “Take your clothes off,” he told her, feeling dangerous.

 

                “I beg your—”

 

                “What did I just say, Skyler? There’s nothing I want to hear from you at the moment, except maybe, yessir, or no sir. Now do what I say.”

 

                Skyler’s gaze burned into his, but she eventually lifted a leg to unzip her boot. Just the sound of it made his back straighten and his shoulders roll up. She needed to move a little faster. When the other one fell to the floor, Skyler stood up in front of him, close enough to touch, and reached for the small of her back to unzip her skirt. He wondered briefly if he should just rip off her panties and fuck her with the rest of her clothes on, but then decided he wanted her as naked as him. He was ready for a level playing field. To make his point, he pushed down on the waistband of his boxers, letting them drop to his ankles. He imagined Skyler on her knees, his cock in her mouth, but when he closed his eyes, the room teetered for a moment. Jesse still wasn’t ready for some images. He opened them and Skyler was struggling to get her tights off as they bunched at her knees.

 

                “Come on, yo. Let’s speed this process up. Get ‘em off, Sky.”

 

                She plopped back down on the couch to rip the tights off, throwing them on the table, before pulling her turtleneck over her head. Her necklace got caught and she fiddled with it, taking another minute to get it loose. Jesse grew impatient and grabbed her leg at the knee, dragging her so that she fell back against the cushions. Skyler cried out.

 

                “Jesse, wait.” She sounded breathless. “Are you sure you want to—”

 

                “Fucking shut up, already. Spread your legs.”

 

                She did, but not wide enough, and Jesse cupped her leg under her shin to angle it over the top of the sofa. He put his mouth to the crotch of her black panties, wanting to scream right into her, make her feel just what she’d done to him like shock waves riding through her, from her cunt to her head. He twisted a finger under the material at her hip until it curlicued three times, cutting off the blood flow to the tip, then he pulled hard, the little pop that sounded as the few stitches holding it together split becoming a boom in his ear.

 

                “Oh God,” he heard her moan, the feel of her fingers in his hair getting tighter as she gripped him harder. Jesse pulled her hands free.

 

                “Not even close,” he said as he climbed on top of her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse lay back against the padding of the couch wishing he had a cigarette. He knew he’d left them in his truck and he was loath to get up and put his clothes on, but he needed to do something with his hands, work off the lingering energy he’d mostly expended on her. He listened to Skyler’s heavy breathing to his side and wondered for the dozenth time what he was supposed to feel about the situation. It was all a little too complicated, her very presence a lightning rod for chaos and doubt.

 

He leaned forward, the chenille throw lying across him and Skyler bunching up at his stomach. “Shit, I left my smokes in the truck,” he said, pressing fingers to his eyelids.

 

He heard her shift her body next to him and then a few seconds later, a bright aquamarine box landed on the table in his view. Jesse reached for it and quickly slipped a cigarette in his mouth, letting her light it as he tipped his head toward her. Leaning over his lap, arms propped on his knees, Jesse watched the smoke swirl around in front of him as if it were the very manifestation of his wrenched up emotions leaving his body. Skyler put a hand to his back and caressed it, her fingers catching on the damn letters that had been carved there. She leaned in close to kiss his shoulder and he arched away from her touch.

 

“Don’t,” he commanded. “It’s fucking gross.”

 

The cushions crunched as she moved closer to him. Skyler’s hand slipped to his lap, resting it right above his groin. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, her breasts pressed against him as she spoke into his skin, her voice deep and scratchy.

 

“What they did was gross, Jesse, not your body.” Her mouth was by his ear, teeth tugging at the skin of his lobe. He heard a low growl in her throat. “They were monsters, but they’re dead now. You can’t let them continue to have this hold over you, even from the grave.”

 

Jesse turned his head, trying to see her face still tucked into his neck. “What do you mean? They don’t have a hold on me, but I can’t exactly pretend it never happened. It’s kind of unavoidable. That’s a pretty big, fucking note they left me with.”

 

Skyler sat up to lock eyes with him. “You were hiding yourself from me, Jesse, because of this,” she pointed to his back, “this _abomination_ , but it’s not who you are. It’s like they’re still forcing you to think their way, making you think there’s something wrong with you.”

 

“There _is_ something wrong with me. There’s a buttload that’s wrong with me. But it’s also beside the point. Yo, I _did_ rat out Mr. White. That’s a fact.”

 

“You did the right thing, Jesse, telling Hank everything. Yes, terrible things happened after that, but it doesn’t mean that you made the wrong choice.”

 

“And what about you? How come you didn’t tell Hank what Walt did when he came to you? I heard him tell his partner that you ran out of that diner without incriminating anyone, especially not yourself. So, what are _you_ gonna tell me about what’s right?”

 

She tensed, her features grim. “I was a coward, Jesse. I was trying to protect my family until we could figure something out. I thought I was being smart, but,” she hung her head, unable to finish.

 

He went back to his cigarette. “Whatever. I don’t really want to talk about this, anyway.”

 

Both of her arms snaked around his chest, squeezing tightly. “Should we go to your room?” she asked hopefully. He wrenched his head to the side again, where her chin rested at this shoulder.

 

“Serious? You want to do that again?” He still wasn’t sure what to feel about the whole thing. Jesse was not in the habit of being sexually aggressive, and he was somewhat uneasy about how he’d treated her, which had been less than respectful. It made him sick to imagine hurting a woman, particularly during sex. That was just not how he was wired. But the entire exercise had meant to convey that he was still fucking furious at her and that she no longer had any control over him. Figures Skyler would _like_ it.

 

She squeezed him again, and he felt ensnared by her. “You’re an exciting lover, Jesse,” she said into the space of his back between his shoulders. Skyler kissed his neck, sucking on the patch of flesh as she pulled away. “You know your way around a woman’s body.”

 

Jesse reared his head back, leaning away from her. “What?” he asked, sounding lifeless.

 

Skyler’s nervousness returned. “I just meant—you know what you’re doing.  I like—I like being with you.”

 

“Are you fucking with me? You still really think I’m that simple? Yo, did you forget the part where your husband fucking _manipulated_ the shit out of me for almost a year? What, you think I can’t spot bullshit a mile away now, like, how you’re trying to make me feel like a _man_ by blowing smoke up my ass? Give me some fucking credit.”

 

“That’s not what I was doing, at all.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a real _genuine_ person, ain’t that right, Sky? Please. ‘Cause telling me I know how to fuck, yeah, that’s gonna make me forget all about being held down by a bunch of dudes who made me their bitch. Sure thing, the power of pussy just sweeping all my problems away.” He felt shaky as he took another drag on his cigarette, the terror of that night always so close to the surface.

 

Skyler curled her fingers around his bicep, applying pressure with her insistence. “Jesse, I am _not_ trying to manipulate you. If you would just give me a chance to explain—I didn’t meant for any of this to happen.”

 

Jesse lay back against the couch, his eyes narrowed as he watched her dig a deeper hole for herself. “You know, I never did take any of those sleeping pills the Doc prescribed. The amount was the same as when I got it, if you’d bothered to look at the front of the bottle. He insisted I take them because I wasn’t sleeping and,” he swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat, “I, uh, was hallucinating some. Found myself outside a couple times with no idea how I got there. He said I was suffering from exhaustion.” He leaned forward to tap his ash into the ashtray then lay back with his head tilted to the ceiling.

 

“I was too scared to take them, though. Told him that I was an addict and that I’d already lapsed too many times, but he said he gave me a dose that wouldn’t be addictive. But I went and tried other things, instead, _natural_ things, like the tea and some herbal remedies.  This lady at the organic store hooked me up with all kinds of good stuff.”

 

Skyler studied him carefully, her gaze scanning his chest and back to his face again. “The doctor … how much does he know, Jesse? What did you tell him about,” her hand waved over his torso, “all of this?”

 

Jesse debated over what he should tell her, whether it was worth it to explain the whole story. Then he remembered she’d be gone by tomorrow, it didn’t really matter what information he gave her, he probably wouldn’t ever see her again. He exhaled heavily, propping a foot against the edge of the table. “Um, he knows … what I went through, without any of the major details, you know? I hadn’t meant for anyone to see this, but … it was kind of a fucked up situation.”

 

“You said that he—he found you? What did you mean?”

 

“I told you I had a bad reaction to someone,” he started. “It was about, I don’t know, a couple months after I got here? Things were seriously bad, mentally-wise. I was having _really_ rough nights, and … well, I was … horny, I guess you could say. Thought a good fuck would get me out of my head for a bit. So, this was when I was still staying in that dive of a roach motel, ‘cause I was trying to stretch the money for as long as I could. But … I go over to this bar that’s, like, down the street from me, thinking I’ll just go home with whoever I can find, even though … well, I wasn’t really sure how I was gonna make that happen.” He hadn’t been sure he could even look at a woman, let alone talk to one. His confidence with the opposite sex had been pretty much dashed into non-existence. But he had hoped that there might be a few Wendy-types that could give him some easy company.

 

“So I go in, it’s packed and noisy, lot of guys around, I didn’t think nothing of it. I go up to the bar and ask for a shot, which was another thing I hadn’t done in a while, since maybe the first night I’d been in Alaska. I’m just minding my own business, listening to all that clatter, all the voices, right, just kind of in my own head, when this guy sits next to me and starts talking to me.” He paused, holding his palms out in expectation.

 

“I didn’t really find it strange or anything, just thought the guy was being sociable. We’re talking, he’s smiling at me, asks me if he can buy my next drink. Which, at that point, I started to think was kind of weird. Like, no guy had ever asked to buy me a drink before, especially when they were looking at me like that. So, I start taking a look around the room … and I notice there ain’t one chick in the place.” Jesse recalled the complete and utter dread when he’d realized his mistake, how it had felt like he’d stepped into a pit of vipers.

 

“I’m suddenly paranoid, trying to figure out what the universe was trying to tell me, you know? Like, what did it mean that the first bar I walk into looking for a hookup happens to be a gay bar? I was already having issues, I didn’t need that. But you know, this _guy_ , this guy was really nice. Like, _super_ nice. And I hadn’t had that in a long time, just being able to chat with someone who didn’t seem to want nothing from me.  Although, that wasn’t actually the case, he did want something, but after I’d downed the third shot of tequila, I was starting to think, maybe I should just go with it. Dude didn’t seem like he could hurt a fly. You know, it was just … we were kind of clicking.”

 

He glanced at Skyler, trying to gauge what her expression meant, but she seemed relatively calm about it all, smoking along with him like they were talking about the weather. He was surprised she wasn’t asking him a thousand questions already.

 

Jesse licked his lips, his leg jittery. “Um, so … after we’d been talking about twenty minutes or so, he just flat out asks me if I want to go home with him. Like, those guys work fast. And even though I knew it was coming, it was still kind of … shocking, I guess. I just … it was like I didn’t even know whose skin I was wearing, like I was trying to make someone else’s fit but it just wouldn’t sit right, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel or how to act, none of that stuff. But we get outside, and I’m pointing out where I live, but he’s got a nice car and obviously a much nicer place than me and suggests we go to his house. Which started to really freak me out, because by that time I was starting to worry that maybe this guy was like Dahmer-friendly and I was about to walk into a seriously messed up, potentially dangerous situation.”

 

“But you went anyway,” Skyler stated flatly, her cigarette smoking lazily above her head.

 

“Not quite. I mean, yeah, but not until later. We got in his car, and this dude is all over me in two seconds, like white on rice. I’ve got a buzz going, and I’m trying to work with it, but … you know, stuff was churning up, like, PTSD shit and everything. But I still want to get off … I figure I just need to _commit_. So I go for it. We’re making out pretty hot and heavy, next thing I know, we’re in his back seat, he’s got his hand down my jeans, he’s squeezing my dick, I’m thinking, holy shit, I can’t believe we’re gonna fuck in his car. Like, I knew I was a slut, but that was pretty slutty.”

 

Jesse paused as he vividly remembered that moment, the panic he felt as he prepared to serve up his will to another yet again. How the things he had resorted to at the compound in order to protect himself had come back to haunt him as the Doc had unbuttoned his shirt, how he’d felt sleazy and unworthy of anything resembling affection. He sat up to get another cigarette, but Skyler pulled it out for him, fitting it to his lips and then flicking back her lighter for him. He bent his head to the flame, but his eyes never left hers.

 

“Anyway, I thought I’d be able to handle it. You know, it wasn’t like I couldn’t do those things, I already knew I _could,_ but … he had my shirt open and then … like he flipped me around really fast. I didn’t think the dude was that strong, but … he had pulled my shirt back far enough that he had my arms trapped behind me, like he wrapped most of it around my sleeves so I couldn’t move. And he might have thought that was a real hot move and all, but then he’s got me pinned down to the seat and he’s grinding into my ass, and I … I just _freaked the fuck out._ Like, it was bad.”

 

Skyler had shifted closer. “What did you do?” she asked, breathless.

 

“I started kicking first, just to get away from him. Smashed my foot through one of the windows. And when I got out from under him, I managed to get my arms free and then, I—I just decked him. Square in the nose. Heard it break and everything.”

 

Her hand went over her mouth. “Oh my God, Jesse. Did you take off?”

 

“Almost. I got the door open and I was ready to run, but … man, he had blood just pouring out of his nose. I –I couldn’t just leave him like that.” In that instant, Jesse had suddenly been able to see the man as he was—not some bogey man, just a nice guy who was attracted to him, and who didn’t deserve to get left in a parking lot with a broken nose.

 

“Anyway, I start apologizing, and I told him I’d take him to a hospital, if he could tell me how to get there. And then he explains he’s a doctor, and if I could drive him to his office, he’d be alright. Well, then I felt like this _huge_ asshole. I mean, who punches out a doctor? But I got him in the passenger seat and then drove him across town, with the heat on full-blast, ‘cause we got this big hole of suckage happening in the back and its freezing in the car. I end up giving him my shirt to stuff under his nose to catch all the blood, since I had my jacket I could wear. But we get there, I help him in, he asks me to help him get some supplies, so I hang around a bit to see what I can do. I ended up cracking his nose back into place. The whole thing was, like, ridiculous.”

 

Skyler was shaking her head in disbelief. “How was he reacting? Was he angry at all? It sounds like he took everything in stride, pretty well.”

 

“I know, right? I mean, I would have been majorly pissed, some girl bashing in my face after basically saying it was a go? But Doc, he was actually worried about _me._ Kept asking me if I was okay, was there anything he could to do help, and I’m thinking, Dude—you’ve got blood all over your clothes and a whole bunch of cotton up your nose, who the fuck cares about what _I’m_ feeling?” Jesse laughed, recalling the incredulity of the moment. He’d never seen anything like it.

 

“I’d say you were very lucky to have found him,” Skyler said as she carded her fingers through his hair. He lay back and let her do it, her touch soothing. Jesse glanced to her breasts, her skin getting more translucent in the waning light, and resisted an urge to pull up the throw and cover her. He wouldn’t lose sight of the fact that he was still mad at her just because he wanted to bury his face in her tits and then drift away as she stroked him into contentment like a dozing cat.

 

“He’s been a really good friend, for sure. I owe him so much.” So much so, that Jesse had offered him sex a few times just as a gesture of thanks. He’d had nothing else of value to give the man. He hadn’t expected to be turned down. “You know, I was over at his house once, having dinner with him. And it was a nice night, I’d just started working at the construction site, I’d been doing a lot of work on this place, and we were having a good time. Doc got a little tipsy, right? He’d been hitting the Merlot on his own, since I was on a purification thing that week. And he got a little … well, he was pretty into me that night, you could say. But I had already figured, you know, it was the least I could do, right? We’re on the couch after and he’s kissing me, he starts doing that slide, kissing down my chest, getting on his knees. I’m – I’m thinking, o-kay. Just a blowjob, no big whoop. I can deal.”

 

Skyler raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How come he was allowed to give you a blowjob?”

 

He shrugged lazily, feeling drowsier the more she ran her fingers across his scalp. “It was a little touchy. I mean, I wasn’t _okay_ okay with it, but I figured I could, you know, suck it up.” His laugh was a dry bark. “But then, everything got really weird. He’s pretty much there, right, my zipper’s down, my pants are sliding past my ass, and then he just … freezes. Pulls back, starts apologizing and, like, covering me up. And I’m wondering, what’s his deal? What, is my dick not good enough for him? But then he told me,” he took hold of Skyler’s wrist, pulled her hand away to rest on his chest. “He said that, he had no right to take advantage of me, in the state I was in. And I’m like, you’re the one who’s been drinking, guy, not me. But … this was after he’d checked me out in his office and everything. I’d been a few times. He had wanted to make sure the … wounds were healing properly and stuff. Gave me some creams for the burns. I’d talked to him, a little bit. Told him I’d done some time in prison, and that the inmates didn’t take too kindly to me being state’s witness. And … I told him some other stuff. But that night, he was a gentleman about the whole thing. Said that me offering him sex and him acting on it would have been inappropriate, like emotionally exploitive. Said it wasn’t right. Said that I had to take care of myself before I could start worrying about taking care of other people’s needs, and that preying on my vulnerability was a selfish thing and gee, could I ever forgive him.”

 

Jesse’s eyes were almost closed, but he watched Skyler’s expression alter in the minutest detail the more he rambled, her face going from curious, to understanding, to shame. She straightened her back, pulled up the chenille on her own accord and tucked it under her armpits as she covered herself, lying against the back of the couch alongside him.

 

“You’re right,” she croaked. “He sounds like a good friend.”

 

Jesse sighed longingly, signaling the end of his story. He turned to look out of the window; a periwinkle glow had been cast while the room had gone dark.

 

“Hey, what time do you need to be at the hotel to check-in?” he asked her.

 

When she looked at him, her eyes harbored the wounded glint of a kicked puppy. She sat up. “Oh. Okay. I—I don’t think it matters so much, as long as I have my reservation. It’s check-out that they get strict about.” She reached to the floor to collect her clothes, her consternation plastered on her face. Jesse couldn’t help but feel some empathy for her.

 

“I just think it’ll be better this way, Skyler,” he told her, in the nicest way that he could.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

                The bulk of the drive was silent.

 

                Jesse made some attempt at small talk, but Skyler had been mostly unresponsive. She wasn’t quite sullen, but her melancholy mood seemed to permeate her entire frame, the streetlights making hovering bands of white across her face like a veil, as if she were in mourning. It had Jesse worried, how dejected she looked. He hadn’t meant to confuse her with the sex; that had been completely impromptu on his part.

 

                He put the radio on and let the music fill the space between them and filter to the blackness outside. There was nothing else he could tell her that wouldn’t sound condescending or lame. She’d crossed a line that he couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t even about forgiving as much as it was about protection. He needed to protect himself, just like the Doc had said. But he still felt for her.

 

                When they arrived at the hotel, he didn’t feel right about dropping her off at the door. Skyler had been staring out of the window for the last ten minutes, barely moving a muscle. Jesse wanted to make sure she’d be alright. He drove up to the roundabout first.

 

                “Hey, you get out here. I’m gonna go park and bring your luggage in, okay?”

 

                Skyler stirred as if she were coming out of a daze. “You’re coming up with me? Will that be safe for you?”

 

                He waved his hand to the dark lot outside of his windshield. “Not a lot of people around. It’s a school night, doubt we’re going to see a crowd checking in right now. I think I can risk it,” he said lightly.

 

                Skyler nodded and then got out of the truck, her purse hanging on her arm the way fancy women toted around their Louis Vitton bags. She gawked around her at first, like she didn’t know where to go. After a few seconds, he tapped on the horn, wondering what she was waiting for. Skyler glanced over her shoulder and then glided to the doors on those heels.

 

                Coming inside with her suitcase and bags rolling behind him, he watched Skyler at the desk talking to the clerk, then kept walking by, making sure she could see him as he head for the elevator. She came up behind him five minutes later and held out her key card so he could see what floor she was on. There was something still listless about her, and Jesse’s concern spiked as they rode up to the sixth floor. The room was quite a ways down, a few turns from the elevator, and Jesse watched her the entire way, wondering what he was going to say to her at the end of their trek. He couldn’t stand seeing how depressed she looked.

 

                As they stood in front of her room, Skyler handed him her key card, her arms crossed tightly. Jesse opened the door, flicking on a light switch as they went inside.

 

                “These are nice rooms, man. Super clean. I like that they got a place to lay your suitcase right in the closet.” Jesse lifted up her suitcase and placed it on the box seat ready for her to open. He examined the details of the room, noticing the little refrigerator in the corner. Its presence made him nervous for Skyler and he wondered if he could request a lock for it at the front desk. “Wow, that’s a big ass tv.”

 

                Skyler stood in the center of the room, her arms still wrapped around her as she stared at the floor. He came over to her and placed his hands on her arms.

 

                “Hey. This is a hell of a lot nicer than my place, right? You can take a shower, the heater is awesome, and you’re in town so you won’t go stir crazy. I mean, it’s probably kind of late for shopping and you’re gonna have to leave early tomorrow to get your car and all, but … you know, this is probably the best way to spend your last night in Alaska. Chillin’ out, watching some shows. It’s all good.”

 

                Skyler’s face dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking silently. “Oh, hey, no. Let’s not do that,” Jesse begged, feeling immediately at sea. Crying women had always been a weakness. He patted her shoulders, rubbed her back, but then Skyler started making loud hitching noises as her weeping intensified. “Whoa, whoa, hey. C’mon, Sky, this is going to be fine.”

 

                “I’m a terrible person,” she moaned, all of a sudden. “I’ve done terrible things. I’m so sorry, Jesse.” Another deep sob shuddered through her. For the briefest second, he considered making a break for it and just leaving without another word. But he couldn’t do that.

 

                “Hey, stop. Oh my God, this is … this isn’t even a tenth as messed up as some of the shit me and Walt did. You gotta get over it. I mean, you never killed anyone, did you? I never said you were terrible, but I—I just think it’s better for us to have _boundaries,_ okay? Things were getting too mixed up.”

 

                “But it’s not just you,” she wailed, dropping her weight to the bed. Her hands covered her face, but he listened to her muffled damnation of herself as her body racked with more cries. “I did it to Ted, I did it to Hank. And Marie. I’ve been so stupid. Thinking I was _sooo_ smart. But all I’ve done is hurt people.”

 

                Jesse sat down with her, quick to put an arm across her shoulder. “Who’s Ted? What are you talking about, Skyler? It was Walter who started all of this. He fucked us both over.”

 

                She shook her head vehemently, her whole body swaying with the movement. “No, no. You don’t understand. It was _my fault_ he broke his neck.”

 

                “Who broke a neck? No one broke a neck, Skyler.”

 

                “ _Ted_ ,” she yelled insistently. “Ted broke his neck, and now he’s stuck in a wheelchair, and his life is destroyed, because of _me,_ because I wanted him to take the money for the IRS.”

 

                Jesse was completely lost. “Why were you paying his IRS bill?” He suddenly recalled something Walt had said when he’d asked to borrow money for the car magnet. “Wait, was this the guy? You know, the dude you had the affair with?”

 

                Skyler finally looked up at him, her mascara smeared in blurry smudges down her cheeks. “Yes. It was him, my boss. I’d cooked the books for him, Jesse. While I worked there. Before we even … the whole relationship was one bad reaction after another.”

 

                Tired of being in the dark, Jesse got her to start the story from the beginning. She brushed over the details of the numbers fudging, but when she got to the affair part, she spoke passionately, as if it were of the utmost importance that he understood why she’d done it.

 

                “I was angry at _Walt._ He had just waltzed back into the house like it didn’t mean anything, that I knew he was a drug dealer. As long as he could hold on to that damn narrative about how he was doing it all for _us_ , for the family, then I was supposed to just shut up and take it, let him continue to endanger all of us with his illegal schemes. And either I let him, or … or I destroy my son. So I screwed my boss and the first thing I did was go home to tell Walt. Oh, God, I _lived_ for that moment, seeing his face when I told him. I wanted to crush him. I wanted him to feel what I had felt all through the lies and disappearances during that whole few months when he was going through his cancer treatment. Through the _fugue state._ Through finding out about the second cell phone. I wanted Walt to feel _all of it.”_

                Jesse was shocked by her balls. It wasn’t something he could have ever done, deliberately dick Walt over and then tell him to his face, until Schrader had gotten him caught in his noose. And Walter had still gotten the last word on Jesse.

 

                “So, how did it get from you fucking this guy to bailing him out of IRS troubles? And how’d he end up with a broken neck?”

 

                “I left Beneke’s and went to work trying to buy the fucking car wash to hide Walt’s cash. Because I had already concocted the story about Walt’s gambling so we could pay for Hank’s medical bills. I knew it was Walt’s fault that Hank had been shot. Even after we found out it was Gus Fring who set the whole thing up, he did it to keep Walt around.” Skyler slapped at her thigh, for emphasis, getting more enraged as she told her tale. “So, it kept going, this mobius strip of obscenities, as I tried to keep it all from falling apart by protecting the business. Protecting the _family._ Because like it or not, that had become my real job.”

 

                “Oh, wait, so,” things were starting to make sense to Jesse. “Your guy got busted with the phony funds and you didn’t want the IRS looking at you and Walt, investigating your shit, cause you woulda had to come in and explain what you did on the other job?”

 

                “Yes!”she said, her eyes huge. “Exactly. And I couldn’t seem to make him understand that, no matter what I tried. So, I … I got Saul to use his guys. Made them shake Ted down, get him to sign the check so we could clear up his debt. That’s all he had to do. But something … something,” her lips tucked inward, as if she were afraid to voice the end of the story, her expression pained. Skyler shook her head again, holding in another sob, and Jesse stroked her back, trying to coax her to finish.

 

                “Just let it out, babe. No one here’s judging, okay?”

 

                “He fell.” Her breath hitched again, sounding like she’d just been stabbed. “Running away from them. The cervical vertebrae of his spine cracked. I saw him … at the hospital. Those pins around his head,” Skyler’s face fell in her hands, her sobs renewed. Jesse didn’t know how to comfort her, so he kept holding her until her weeping started to subside. But he knew how she felt, could understand how the guilt would never be ameliorated by a few useless platitudes.

 

                Suddenly, Skyler turned under his arm and clutched him in an embrace, her face in his neck. She squeezed him so tight, he almost gasped, but he put his hands to her arms to try and ease her grip. When she spoke, her voice was clear.

 

                “Please … forgive me, Jesse. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t. I'm truly sorry for what happened, for my arrogance in thinking I knew what was best for you. I—I didn’t mean it. I just … if you could see … if you could just give me another chance.”

 

                He sighed to hear her. She sounded like him on so many occasions. Sorry, always sorry, for something, some fuck-up. It was an exhausting way to live. He scraped his teeth as his jaw worked side to side. Jesse wondered if he was about to make another mistake.

 

                “Hey, look. I feel like—like you need someone to talk to, right? And your sister, she means well, but … she’s kind of crazy with her own shit, huh? Seems like it’s lot of work to, you know, take care of her.” Skyler only nodded into his neck, her arms still snug around his back.

 

                He sighed again, giving in. “Do you … can you switch your flight to another day? Would it help,” but before he even finished, Skyler had straightened to look him in the eye, her face full of dismay.

 

                “I can do that,” she said, still shaky. “There’s probably a service fee, but—it doesn’t matter, I don’t care what they charge for it. As long as … you’re sure it’ll be okay? You’re okay with this?”

 

                Jesse looked behind him to the corner, catching sight of the minibar and resolving to give her his ultimatum. The choice would be hers, but he would have to be firm.

 

                “There’s only one way this’ll work, Skyler. I – think you should stay here, at the hotel. Get a car, even, if that’s what you need. But … you can only stay if you do one thing for me. And maybe it ain’t my right to force this, but … well, it’s like that movie, with the serial killer, what’s-his-name? With the lambs.”

 

                She stared at him in confusion. “Are you talking about Hannibal Lecter _?_ ”

 

                “Yeah, that guy. It’s, uh, _quid pro quo._ You fucked up, it’s already done. But if you wanna stay and hang out, then you got to promise me this one thing. And I mean it, Skyler, you go back on your word, I put you on the plane myself.”

 

                Skyler gawped at him, shaking her head. “Of course. What? What do you need me to do?”

 

                He shrugged at her. “You can’t go back to the bottle, man. I know it sucks, not having something to make life all smooth and chill and get you through the shit, but … I need you to do this. I can’t have it around me. Plus, you already started down that road, and believe me, you’re almost there. The first week is a real bitch, but it gets better.”

 

                “You just want me to … stay sober?”

 

                “Yeah.” Jesse rubbed her shoulders, trying to make her realize that he wanted her to be happier. “I know I said different, but ignore that, I was being a jerk. This is really good, what you’re doing. And maybe … maybe you wouldn’t have done what you did if you were in a better headspace. I’m—I’m worried, though, that you won’t take it all the way. I mean, I walk out that door, you can crack open that bar and go to town and I can’t do shit about it. Except this. This is my move. And I’ll know, Skyler, if you start again. I’ll see it right away. So, think about what you want. I’m not changing my mind.”

 

                Her surprise couldn’t have been more overstated. She stared at him with mouth agape but her grip fierce around his wrist.

 

                “I promise, Jesse,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. And then she kissed him.

 

                Jesse hadn’t meant to stay, didn’t think he’d end up in her bed again, but it was hard to not want her when she was undressing with abandon and then pressing his palm to her sex, thrusting into his hand and moaning already before he’d even removed his coat. The thought crossed his mind that this could have been Skyler closing the deal, playing another hand to rope him back into her web, but the more that he asked for, the more that she gave, and the sex started to feel different, real, like they were actually sharing a conversation that meant something profound for them both.  When Jesse slid into her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms circling his neck, making him think again of a spider curling around its prey, but then she said his name, and it wasn’t a command, it wasn’t a curse, it was simply for him. The plaintive note in her call sang through his body, his chest full, his heart beating in his ears, and he remembered who he used to be, remembered that he knew how to love a person. And Jesse started to think that maybe … maybe he deserved to be loved, too.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to warriorpoet, for her continued beta assistance and plethora of notes.
> 
> Song on the radio can be found here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTGl4ItMxwI


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jesse finally gets clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you that have commented recently, thank you so much. The author would like to express her appreciation.
> 
> And to warriorpoet and falafelfiction, you guys are the best.

 

 

**_Chapter 11_ **

****

****

                “Jesse?”

 

                He heard her calling him from the bed, her movement making the sheets sussurate in invitation as panic tinged her voice.

 

                “Yeah, I’m here,” he answered, from his stance at the window. He’d split the curtains just wide enough so that he could stare out over the black sea before him, just a handful of lights interspersed across the landscape. It wasn’t like the ABQ out here, where the night felt like it was simply more day without the sun, the bustling pool of bodies and cars never ceasing. In this place, everything shut down after nine, the dark was really dark, and the crickets were often a deafening roar louder than any highway traffic he could recall from his bedroom back home. From this high up, he could see all the way out to the water, the blackness going from onyx to obsidian beyond the coast.

 

                Jesse gazed up to scan the sky, the twinkling of the stars always a comfort, like listening to the rain and far-off thunder. He used to spend nights out on his lawn laying on his back and watching them for hours. It had reminded him of his time at the compound, stuck in that subterranean cell and looking through the grate, but it was those feelings the view engendered that had stayed with him, not the awful stuff, not the ongoing nightmare of it all. Jesse had imagined himself—no, _willed_ himself—to be up in the sky, too, swimming with the stars as he could see them from the ground –little blinking fireflies that would swarm around him—and he would pull them all together like shopping carts, like magnets, all of them forming in a straight line that Jesse could wrap around his body like a string of Christmas lights. They would protect him from harm, be his little shield of invincibility.

 

                _The universe is random. It’s not inevitable. It’s simple chaos. It’s subatomic particles in endless, aimless collision. That’s what science teaches us._ He had listened to Mr. White ramble that night in the lab, not knowing at the time that the man had been trying to shed some of his guilt in his actions towards Jane, towards Jesse. But he hadn’t really believed most of the speech, anyway. _What is it telling us, when on the very night that this man’s daughter dies, it’s me who’s having a drink with him? How can that be random?_ He thought about the significance of what Walt had revealed, the ramifications not only in the moment he described, but playing out that very night, and then, later at T’hajiilee. The universe _wasn’t_ just random. Things didn’t just _happen_ , to go on and on to infinity, never _meaning_ anything, never to leave marks all over people like scars and words and deep fissures in their brains so that they could finally get a fucking clue one day. It just wasn’t true.  If Jesse had learned anything, he had learned that one valuable piece of information, letting the knowledge lift him up like a bright, red A+ on a science test, with maybe some positive comment written on the side ( _Good job! Very thorough! You got this, Jesse!)._ His old teacher hadn’t been able to grasp that truth and had paid the price. Jesse had paid a price, too, and it was a big fucking expensive one, at that, but he had survived, had come out of the other side as the last man standing, and if that wasn’t for a reason, then he didn’t know a god damned thing.

 

                Surviving hadn’t been easy, either, none of this had been a piece of cake, but he had continued to do it, because he couldn’t stand the idea of letting it all be for nothing, to end up as another dead junkie in an alleyway that meant nothing to no one. It was like one of those stars had slipped inside of him as he’d gazed up from the floor of his hole, had become this tiny flickering light of hope that kept him hanging on, let him get through it, be the punching bag for every asshole out there, and when he’d sped through the smashed gate, had driven with reckless hysteria as he got away as far as he could from that place, that tiny star had gone supernova.

 

                “What are you looking at?” Arms circled his middle like a band, Skyler squeezing him as she pressed herself into his backside.

 

                He closed the curtains and turned to her, pushing her arms down to her sides. “Nothing. Just thinking about stuff. You should get back in bed.”

 

                “So should you. You have to get up in a few hours. I don’t know how you can function with only a couple of hours of sleep a night.” She slid her hands over his ass, pressed the two of them together so that their hip bones met. “Come back to bed and let me take care of you.”

 

                It was less taxing to just let her have her way. He let her take his hand and lead him back, let her pull his arm so that he had to stretch out over her body. She wanted to screw, but Jesse took hold of her knees, moved himself lower so that he could get her off with his mouth. He just didn’t have the energy to feel anything else that night and being inside Skyler stirred up too many emotions. Going down on her was a hell of a lot nicer than dealing with those murdering, rapist hicks, but the deflection process was the same. It was like making and breaking ice. Just something he did, steps that he put effort into, in order to acquire the desired finish. He did this, he got this. It was cause and effect, action and reaction, all of those concepts Walt used to talk about in class. _Chemistry is the study of matter, but I prefer to see it as the study of change. Bonds--_ _Covalent bonds, ionic bonds_ , _chemical bonds are what make matter matter._

 

                He worried about his bond to Skyler and where it was heading. He was afraid he would get too attached to her, would want to keep it going, look for excuses to keep her around. It wasn’t even a remotely realistic notion, that she could stay, but he knew he had a penchant for daydreaming about impossible things. Jesse recognized that old tendency he had to play the puppy licking its master’s face, throwing himself at a person he considered worthy, his loopy joy whenever he could bask in their light and acceptance a habit that would invariably cause him heartache. That fault had mostly been beaten out of him, but he knew it was still somewhere there inside, like a little dot of cancer on a lung. He had to be careful around her, keep his distance where he could. She had proven how dangerous she could be to him, not only as a threat to his freedom, but to his mental health.

 

                Yet, it still felt good to talk to her. He had been heartened to hear her share her own story, feeling like they had begun a dialogue that might actually give him another outlet to release some of the foul shit he carried internally, like tar that stuck to his muscles, coating his ribs until it collected so thickly that he couldn’t breathe. He had spoken to the Doc a little bit, as he’d explained to Skyler, but it was snatches of events dressed up in euphemism and metaphors, never a full confession, or an honest, unflinching look at what he’d experienced. The need to be cleansed was something that drove Jesse hourly, every hiccup or disappointment just another test of his mettle. _You can do this_ , he would sometimes hear in Gus’s voice. It provided a strange validation at the end of his day, a pat on the back from a man who had wanted him dead. But then, Jesse could say that about all of the men he knew back then.

 

                Skyler groaned louder as his tongue worked, his fingers stuffed in her ass and her cunt while he sucked on her like a leech, like one of those bottom feeders they showed on the Discovery Channel. He knew her body well enough now that he could make her come quickly, could get her to fall asleep faster. He couldn’t always talk, sometimes he just needed to think, to listen to what was in his head without Skyler interrupting. Jesse didn’t really know how much she could understand of what he’d been through, even before that day in the desert. He had admitted a lot to her already, without really saying very much. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. She had proven her point about him removing his shirt. He’d felt freer without it, letting her see him in all of his stark, wounded, freak-show glory meant that he hadn’t needed to think about the _how_ of those scars anymore than was necessary. But it was another thing altogether to tell her about the manner in which they got there. Skyler thrust her hips up high as she came with a shout, her grip in his hair, and Jesse held on, moving with her until she started to settle down.

 

                Fifteen minutes later, and he was on his back with her curled around him, her slow breaths tickling his neck as she slept.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

               

                _Outside. In back by the dumpstr._

Jesse flipped down the cheap Nokia after his text and sat back in his truck. He drummed on the wheel’s rim while he waited, trying to refrain from taking out a cigarette. It had been rather handy being so close to work when he’d awakened, had given him a little more time to get breakfast, but getting to the hotel after his shift let out had been a little slower than he’d expected. The boats would be floating on parade this weekend, and most of the residents in town had left their offices early to prepare. There was already a throng collecting on Main Street. It made him nervous to be in the parking lot at all, with so many cars about, people filling up the lobby as more station wagons and SUVs pulled through the front roundabout. He could see they even had valet guys working at the entrance.

 

                He’d forgotten about the whole thing until he’d noticed the banners as he drove to work. It would make it difficult for him to take Skyler anywhere. There weren’t likely to be areas they could connect without being seen by dozens. Taking her back to his place was the optimal choice, but he’d only just gotten her out of there. He had really been hoping to find neutral ground. Jesse had flipped the phone back up to tell her he’d come to her, when he heard a knock at his window. He glanced over in surprise, not expecting her to have been so fleet of foot, but when he saw her through the glass Jesse’s mouth dropped open.

 

                Skyler opened the door and climbed into the cab, all smiles as she took in Jesse’s stunned expression. Her big, dark glasses were on, but her hair – it was remarkable how different she looked.

 

                “Well? What do you think?” she asked him, fanning out curls with her fingers. The harsh blonde of her hair was gone, replaced by a deep, coppery red, practically ruby as the light ran through it. She had corkscrews all over her head, hanging down her back, and she was wearing the reddest, wettest fuck-me lipstick he’d ever seen. Even Wendy would have been impressed.

 

                “What the hell, yo. Where did Skyler White go and who is this smokin’ redhead sitting in my truck?”

 

                “Hannah, remember? Skyler Lambert is off being a drag somewhere else. It’s Hannah—” she tapped a finger to her chin as she decided on a name. “Hannah _Rydell_.” She held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Jake Hennings.”

 

                He shook his head at her in wonder. “Wow. Is that the stuff you needed to get yesterday, hair dye and curlers?”

 

                “I thought it might be a bit awkward for you to purchase and not get questioned.”

 

                “So,” he waved a hand over her transformed appearance. “Hannah –where’s the name from, by the way?”

 

                “Hannah’s my middle name, and Rydell was the last name of this boy I was pretty serious with in college. Thought he might even pop the question before we graduated. But then Mom and the car crash…,” she shrugged in a way to suggest the romance had died along with her mother.

 

                “You got any idea what you want to do, Hannah? ‘Cause this place is gonna be busy all weekend. Everyone’s going to be at every restaurant and bar tonight, but there’s gonna be even more people on the street by tomorrow.”

 

                “Yeah, I asked at the desk,” she said. “Kind of a strange time of the year for a boat parade, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that normally be a summer thing?”

 

                “Oh, they do it then, too. But this is supposed to be the fall pageant of colors, even though the snow got here a little early. At least it’ll be sunny tomorrow. The boats go down the river and empty into the bay, but it’s really pretty all along the coast.”

 

                “Soooo,” she said, elongating her vowel. “Do you suggest we go to your house?” She seemed hesitant to bring it up.

 

                “We could order up room service, but it would be kind of a waste, with you all dolled up and nowhere to go.”

 

                Her smile spread wider. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a waste. The idea was not to be seen together, right? “

 

                “I’d take you to the next town over, but it’s pretty far, almost four hours away. This stretch of land, you got to go by ferry or plane to get anywhere. It’s kind of what I like about it.”

 

                “Why don’t we go to the Thai place next door? Their food was good, and I don’t think it’s generally busy.”

 

                They ended up in the tiny restaurant, in a booth in the back, but even still, every table was full. The din wasn’t overly loud, it couldn’t have been more than a dozen people in the seating area, yet Jesse found himself tilting his head close to Skyler’s as they spoke in low tones. It was so strange to see her with such a colorful head of hair, making her look vibrant and alive as she talked in coy smiles and throaty laughs. It was like her personality had changed along with it. He was a little ashamed to find himself subtly sniffing her breath to see if he could detect any whiff of liquor. She smelled of mint toothpaste and perfume.

 

                “It sounds like Holly is still asking about you. I spoke to Marie this morning and she said that Holly has been wanting to know when you’re coming to visit.”

 

                He was sure that Skyler had meant for the news to be a sweet anecdote, but Jesse wouldn’t be visiting anyone any time soon. It stung a bit to be reminded of that.

 

                “Yeah, well, you can tell your sister that I said to tell Holly hello. But I ain’t stepping back in Albuquerque to visit no one.”

 

                Skyler’s grin flattened. “Not even your brother?”

 

                Jesse made a face. “Why would I do that? I seriously doubt he wants to see me.”

 

                She shrugged, spoke softly. “Because maybe you have some things you want to say to him.”

 

                But Jesse didn’t want to talk about Jake. “Hey, I got called into the office yesterday. The foreman wanted to talk to me.”

 

                “Nothing bad, I hope?” Skyler frowned in concern.

 

                Jesse couldn’t resist a dig. “Well, you made me late, so I thought I was gonna get chewed out about that, but … it ended up being pretty good. He, uh, he wants me to go into this training program. It’s an apprenticeship. The guy who handles all the carpentry on site, one of my bosses, came and talked to me today, too. They really want me to sign up. It would mean a raise, but I’d have to work a little more hours, do some homework and stuff, play runner to Mr. Evans.” It would have been great.

 

                “That sounds wonderful. When does the program start?”

 

                “Well, it won’t start—not for me, anyway. I mean, I can’t really take the offer. It would mean filling out more paperwork, providing more documentation that I don’t have. No way I can get certified in this state without some real records.” His driver’s license wouldn’t hold up under that much scrutiny.

 

                Skyler looked crushed. “What? You can’t just – there’s got to be some way around that. This is an opportunity that you could really use. Something to give you legitimacy in the community.”

 

                “Yo, that’s the problem. I’m _not_ legit.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m a fugitive. Can’t have too many eyes peering at me. I may have to get another job.”

 

                But she seemed determined, her curls shaking around her head like party streamers as she insisted there was a way. “We can figure this out. I have my guy. He got,” –she bent her head closer to him—“he got Walt all the way to New Hampshire, gave him a new identity. I’m guessing he did the same for Saul. And he can get you whatever you need, in terms of a backstory, or whatever, since you’re already established here. We’ll work something out.”

 

                Jesse couldn’t believe she was even suggesting it. “Are you crazy? I ain’t got that kind of money. His fee is pretty fucking steep. And what’s this ‘ _we_ ’ crap, all of a sudden?”

 

                “Marie and I can pay the fee. We can get the money. We can have it for you by tomorrow. It just might be a little trickier getting a hold of this man. I don’t think he’s using the same front, anymore.”

 

                Jesse pressed the heel of his hand to his eye, fingers splayed as he tried to quell the headache starting to form. “Oh my God. Sky—Hannah, whatever. Are you even listening to yourself? What you’re doing now? Hanging out here, tracking me down—” He cut off abruptly as their food was brought to the table. Their waiter slid down their wrapped silverware by their plates, asked if they needed anything else, then left to rush back to the kitchen. Jesse looked down at his plate of noodles, suddenly not hungry any longer. “Look,” he began again, his voice low. “Something were to go wrong, you could bluff your way out of it, everything that’s going on here, and with your sister. But – you two give this guy _money_ to set me up? You’re now aiding and abetting. You could go to jail. For real, this time, there wouldn’t be any way you’d get out of it.”

 

                “I don’t care,” she said.

 

                “Bullshit,” he croaked, annoyed by her answer. She was trying way too hard. “Your son may be standing on his own feet wanting to get away from you, with all of his millions, but your daughter? You gonna put her at risk? Don’t give me this sweeping epic nonsense. Of course, you care. This would be a stupid move, pure and simple, and you don’t strike me as a stupid lady.”

 

                She didn’t have a reply, just looked down at her food and began eating, spearing her beef strips with a savage zealousness. They ended up finishing the meal mostly in silence, watching the people around them while a crowd developed outside of the front window.  Jesse was feeling exposed; he didn’t want to run into anyone he knew regardless of what Skyler looked like. It was better if no one knew anything about her.

 

                They walked back to the hotel after dinner, Jesse leaving his truck in the restaurant parking lot. It was still bitterly cold out, but at least there was no snow coming down. He stayed outside to smoke a cigarette and she handed him her key still in its envelope.

 

                “Take this to the exit door and let yourself in the back way,” she told him. “I’ll meet you up there. I’m going to ask for another card at the desk.”

 

                He finished his smoke before he went inside. The hallways were definitely seeing more traffic, people with suitcases pulling up to their doors, kids running around in excitement. Jesse found the room and slipped the card in, waited for the green light and the buzzer to buzz. When he walked in, Skyler was sitting on her bed in a bra and panties, and she was in the middle of slipping the panties off, letting them slide down her legs to drop to the floor.

 

                “Did you want to argue some more or would you rather fuck?” she asked him with an air of haughtiness. She spread her legs. “Since you’re so good at shutting me up.”

 

                He held out a hand. “Does it have to be one or the other?”

 

                She crossed her legs primly. “No, of course not. What would you _like_ to do, Jesse? You can jump in the shower if you want. We can watch some tv.”

 

                Jesse gave her a lazy smile. “I don’t do showers, remember? I thought we could just talk.”

 

                Her features softened. “Oh … well, you could take a bath first, get comfortable. It’s a pretty big tub. There’s even some bath salts. That could be relaxing.”

 

                Jesse arched an eyebrow at her then turned to walk into the bathroom, wanting to see just how big was big. It wasn’t one of those recessed, circular tubs, but it was still pretty roomy. He called to her in the other room.

 

 

 

                “You wanna join me?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                She lay against his chest, her hair swooped up and clipped by a barrette. Jesse ran the washcloth over the front of her, leaving baby soap bubbles across her tits to dribble down into her cleavage in a foamy pile. Skyler’s head was propped on his shoulder, her eyes closed as he caressed her. It was nice, the ordinariness of it all. He liked the weight of her pressed to him without having to do anything else. It was almost meditative, just letting their bodies breathe into each other. But he was thinking about the things she had told him the night before, the names she had mentioned in her list of people she’d wronged.

 

                “So … what did you do to your sister that got you so upset? I mean, it seemed like you two have been … working through stuff for a while. Was it just because of her husband? Or something else?”

 

                Skyler took a deep breath. She shifted a bit so that the side of her face was pressed to his skin.

 

                “She hated me for a lot of months because of what happened to Hank, but there was something before that. It was something we did, Walt and I. After … after everything had come to a head, and Hank had already confronted Walt, had tried to get me to act as a witness.” She sighed heavily again. “It was a … confession, of sorts. A tape that we gave them as … as collateral … as a threat.”

 

                Just the mere mention of ‘confession’ and ‘tape’ in the same sentence made Jesse’s skin go cold. It was a sickening recollection with too many tentacles in too many outcomes.  “You guys made a tape?”

 

                 The water lapped and splashed as she sat up to face him, her mouth twisted as she tried to explain. “It was Walt’s plan. He had me … we filmed him giving a confession for the DEA. He started off with the whole reason he got into the business, the cancer and the money, but … he implicated Hank. I mean, he _blamed_ Hank, fingered him as the mastermind and Walt as just his chemist, in fear for his life. There were things … things that had happened, things that _I_ unwittingly helped design, that made it easy to match up Walt’s story with Hank’s investigation. He made it sound like Fring and Hank were in the middle of a turf war, that Hank being shot was the fallout from that. And that Walt was being forced to do all of these things, in service to his brother-in-law, because Hank had threatened to kill him. Christ, he even had the bruises and cuts on his face as part of his _proof_ , after Hank had punched him that same week. It was … it was disgusting, really, just watching the lies pour out of his mouth. And his performance …” She shivered, closing her eyes to the memory.

 

                Jesse shivered, too, the chill making him feel a little nauseous.  “Yeah, I remember. Walt could have won an Oscar. I don’t know how he pulled it off, sometimes.” He glanced up at Skyler. “What’d you do with it? The tape?”

 

                “We gave a copy to them. At a restaurant in town, a meeting that Walt had asked for. It was meant to be … it was just to get them to back off. But I felt awful about it. Marie could barely look at me at the table. She thought I had lied about everything, too, but … I hadn’t wanted any of it. All of it, everything that happened, I needed to keep the story going in order to …”

 

                “Protect the family, yeah, I got it,” Jesse mimicked dully. A light seemed to flicker in her eye, a flare-up of anger. “I guess I can see both sides, though,” Jesse continued. “I mean, that’s pretty fucking low, but that was nothing for Walt. You turning on your sister like that, though—you gotta admit, she’s got a right to be hella pissed at you for a long time. I’m surprised the relationship isn’t worse.”

 

                “Well, we have our good days and bad days,” she explained.”But Walt could be …”

 

                Jesse reached over to pull her back, positioned her so that she was pressed to his front once more. He cupped her breasts, ran his hands over them as he spoke in her ear.

 

                “Look, I know how he was. You don’t have to convince me, okay? Dude was smooth. He liked to manipulate, to get his way, it was always about what Walt wanted. I don’t know what he said to you to get you to do it, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? At least you patched things up with Marie … sorta. That’s got to be good, right? Having family come through for you? Even after you put them through shit? That’s … that doesn’t always happen. So, you got to protect her, too, you know what I mean? Like coming out here, even though you thought it was a bad idea. I respect that. You two – you’re going to be all right.”

 

                Skyler turned in the tub again so she could look at him, searching his face as if she didn’t believe him. Her eyes flittered over his chest, dropping lower, and then she put out a hand to caress his cheek, into his beard, ran her hand up over his head to drag her fingers through his hair.

 

                “You should let me wash your hair,” she said, her throat raspy. It made him crave a cigarette.

 

                “You wanna wash my hair?” he repeated, finding the idea amusing.

 

                “Yeah. I’m all about the hair today. Here, dunk your head under the water to get your hair wet and I’ll get some shampoo.”

 

                But Jesse didn’t move. “Uh … don’t really like … I’m not a big fan of being underwater.”

 

                She stilled, her body halfway out of the tub. “You don’t want hold your breath?”

 

                He pointed to one of the wrapped plastic cups on the side of the sink. “Hey, grab that. That’ll work.” Jesse had gotten pretty good at holding his breath, his record might have been up to three or four minutes, but then it had been hard to gauge time when he was being held down, the burning in his lungs feeling like his chest was about to combust as his panic consumed him.

 

                Skyler came back to the tub and made him scoot up, had them switch spots as she slid back down to lean against the porcelain. He let her scoop water out of the tub to pour over his head, like his mother used to do when he was a kid, but it felt safe with her all the same. She lathered his head up –he liked the way that Skyler put the shampoo in the palm of her hand first, before rubbing it into his locks—and her fingers massaging into his scalp felt wonderfully gentle. When she tipped his head back so she could run water over his soapy head, it was like a baptism, the shampoo draining away and him feeling clean and new. Jesse liked feeling clean. He could spend hours in the tub, till he was nothing but baby pink, puckered skin.

 

                “They had showers at the compound,” he began, his eyes still closed as she continued to rinse his hair, the warm rivulets running down his back. “It was a working factory once. I think they made airplane parts or jet engines or something. But obviously, there were enough guys working at the place, that there was a big communal shower room with lockers next to it. All black and white checkered tile. Maybe ten shower heads. The … the guys used it, Welker’s gang, I mean.”

 

                Skyler had finished her rinse, put a hand at the back of his neck, prompting Jesse to sit up. He hunched over his knees, water dripping in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around his legs while she stroked his back with a cloth, stroked around the lines engraved there.

 

                “I didn’t get to bathe very often. They liked to wait until the stink and grime were ready to walk off of me. Sometimes, Todd would watch me while I cleaned up, but the other times … the other times, it was … it was like the precursor. They had to clean me up for, like, their big event. Kenny and his two boys, Lester and whats-his-name. Frankie. They were Kenny’s Crabbe and Goyle, you could say.”

 

                Skyler remained quiet, shifted so that she could move herself closer to him, her nipples just barely brushing against him as she placed delicate, tentative fingers along his shoulders.

 

                “They’d come get me late at night, when everyone else was out or asleep. I’d have to go through the shower first. Kenny would make me strip, they’d put my chains back on, and then … they’d hang me from the shower head, my handcuffs locked there so I couldn’t get out of the way of the spray when it hit. I never knew which it was gonna be, but there’d only be two temperatures, either freezing cold or boiling hot.” He remembered the feeling of his head being on fire, the scalding heat leaving blisters on his scalp and along the side of his face for days after.

 

                “It was a game for them, I guess. It was apparently real funny to see how I’d react. You know, the more I screamed, the more hilarious. The hot tap was their favorite.” ( _woohhoo, look at that white boy dance!)_ They didn’t use real soap, but a powder that they shook over him from a can, the grit stinging his eyes. “Sometimes … sometimes they didn’t let me out of that room for a while, depending on when showtime was supposed to start.” The ragged scrapes forming on his knees from being dragged around the shoddy tiles, being pulled from one to the other. “There were nights, Kenny liked to use this old belt on me. He called it ‘whippin’ the stink off’. It was this worn, frayed leather belt, and it would sting like a motherfucker. It would wrap around me like glue when it was wet, leave marks on me for days.”

 

                He sighed. Straightened up and turned towards her, noting her solemn expression. “So, that’s why I’m a little bit of a prima donna when it comes to baths and shit. It’s … I just get bad memories, you know, like _associations_.” He swallowed hard as he watched her face, waiting to see what she’d do.

 

                She cast her eyes downward. “And this … showtime? What did that mean, exactly?”

 

                Jesse felt a strong chill run through him, making him shiver again and his teeth chatter. “Hey, the water’s gone cold. Why don’t we go in the other room now? Order up some dessert or something?” He hadn’t gained any more of an appetite, but it seemed like something normal to do.

 

                “Of course, Jesse. Whatever you’d like,” Skyler said wistfully. He got out first, dripping on the towel they’d thrown on the floor, but he held out a hand to help her up.

 

                Back in the bedroom, Skyler had insisted he wear the big, fluffy white robe with the hotel’s name by the lapel, and he sat in the comfy chair in the corner watching her move around. She was pulling out her hair dryer from her suitcase, grabbing a glossy bifold from the desk with pictures on it to hand to him.

 

                “Here, pick out whatever looks good. But bring the chair out a little bit so I can get the plug in behind you.”

 

                For the next ten minutes, the loud motoring sound of the dryer filled his head as she swept it around him, running her fingers through his hair to help dry it faster. Between the robe and the hair washing, he was starting to feel a bit pampered, like a woman having her spa day. No one ever did things like this for him. He thought about her question to him and wondered how much he was willing to tell her. It wasn’t anything he could imagine her wanting to hear, but then, she had some of her own shit to wade through.

 

                He had looked over their options and picked out a chocolate mud pie, just one for them to share. There was ice cream available, but Jesse would never eat ice cream again. She called down to the desk, asked for some coffees, too, and then came over to sit in his lap, her own robe widening where the fronts crossed so that he could see her bare breasts as she leaned towards him.

 

                “You look good,” she said. “I like the brushed back style.”

 

                His gave her a slow, secretive smile. “Whatever you want.”

**“** And what about you? What do you want, Jesse?”

 

                He didn’t know what that meant. “I’m fine. I don’t care what my hair looks like.”

 

                Skyler anchored her legs on either side of him, straddling him, her robe opening all the way up with the sash still knotted so that he could see all of her.

 

                “I want to know what I can do for _you_ , Jesse. What makes you feel good? What is it that you would like me to do?”

 

                But Jesse couldn’t even think in those terms. She made him feel good just by being in the room with him. “I don’t know. Nothing, I don’t need you to do anything. This is nice, right now.”

 

                It didn’t appear to be the answer she wanted to hear. Skyler’s hand slid under the terry cloth of his robe, her fingers pressing his scrotum. He felt the heat from her skin as she wrapped around him; felt her tug on his dick. She might as well have been doing it to someone else for all that it aroused in him. Skyler dropped to the floor on her knees, swept the robe open so she had full access to him.

 

                “You don’t have to do that, Skyler. We … we could just, you know, hang out. I don’t need—”

 

                “But you do need, Jesse. You need a lot. I just want to give you some pleasure, why won’t you let me? Just tell me what it is that you want to see, or however you want to fuck, I just want to know what makes you feel … what makes you _feel_. Tell me.”

 

                Jesse sat up, could detect the thread of annoyance building up in him. She was still trying too hard. “I don’t _want_ to tell you, okay? It’s fine the way it is. I mean, I get hard, I get off. That’s good. That’s better than it was.”

 

                Skyler wouldn’t listen, however, angling her head to tongue his cock, working him with her hand while she sucked on his balls. She was certainly persistent. Yet the harder she worked, the less sexy the entire endeavor felt.

 

                “Look … Sky. Hey. It ain’t happening, okay? Give it up.”

 

                Her frustration leapt out of her. “Is it me? Is it something I can’t give you?”

 

                “What does that mean?” He didn’t need her pushing him again, things had been going great. “Look, just come back up on my lap. I liked that, us just talking. Okay? You do that for me, I’ll give you what you want. We’ll do something later. However you want to me to fuck you.”

 

                She seemed to ponder his proposal for a moment.  She climbed back onto his lap. “Is that how you were with Walt? You let him have his way? Gave him what he wanted?”

 

                Jesse’s forehead creased as he listened, tried to glean what she was inferring by her inflections. It was a pretty weird segue. “Like, how? I mean, yeah, I … followed instructions. Especially when it was something where he was the one who knew what he was doing, but … you know, I gave him advice, too.”

 

                “Advice?” She looked doubtful.

 

                “Yeah, _advice._ Not that he would listen to it, the greedy fuck, but … you know, I put in my two cents. I didn’t just lie down and take it. I mean, that’s how everything got turned upside down, right? ‘Cause I wouldn’t listen to Walt, didn’t want to do what he wanted, anymore.”

 

                Skyler turned pensive. “And Gale Boetticher? Did you shoot him because you felt you … owed Walt? I mean, why not just let him die? Let Fring’s men kill Walt and you could have run off. Wouldn’t that have solved all of your problems?”

 

                Jesse wrenched his head back, shocked by her cold-bloodedness.  “What the hell? Of course, I wouldn’t have just left him there. Let Mr. White –goddammit— _Walt_ , take a bullet for me after he’d just saved my life two days before? He was in that bind because of what he did for me. I wasn’t gonna just run out on him.”

 

                “But by your own admission, y _ou_ put yourself on the street corner with those men, Jesse, and I get the feeling you probably hadn’t expected to walk out of that. From the way you tell it, Walt treated you like shit, and it sounded like he’d turned on you when he went to Fring to tell him about your plan. But regardless of what he did to save you from those gang members, killing an innocent man – well, a mostly innocent man – obviously put you through hell. So, why the loyalty? What was it about Walt that you had to stick by his side?”

 

                “Look, those fucks killed a ten year old boy, they deserved to get iced. And yeah, maybe I figured I’d end up dead, too, but I had the chance to take at least one of ‘em out. And one less child killer in the world is a good deal, in my book. And Walt? You know, he was my partner. That meant something to me. It wasn’t just that one time, yo, he saved me a bunch of times. So there’s that.” He remembered what Walt had said to him in the laser tag place. “You know what he told me?  He said, _I saved your life, Jesse, are you going to save mine?_ ” Jesse shrugged with exaggeration. “What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

 

                She considered his answer for a few minutes, her hand running over the patch of his chest that lay exposed between the lapels of his robe.

 

                “Can I ask you a question without you … taking offense? It’s not meant to imply anything, I’m just trying to get a sense of your relationship with … my husband, here.”

 

                He narrowed his eyes at her. “Like what?”

 

                She looked away, put her fingers through her hair in a nervous gesture. “When you told me about the doctor – how you met him. And, Jesse,” she put out a hand with her palm forward, “I’m not even referring to anything that might have happened to you at that awful, terrible place. But before all that, before things got so bad … was there ever a time … I mean, did you ever have …” She seemed to have a hard time getting the words out.

 

                “What are you trying to ask me?”

 

                The words finally tumbled out. “Had you ever been with a man?”

 

                For a moment, Jesse was confused. “What?” he asked. “Are you asking me if I’m a faggot?”

 

                “No, no, God, Jesse, don’t use that word. I just meant,” She sighed heavily, resigned to his reaction. “Look, for a long time, I thought Walt was having an affair. Before I found out about the meth. And I used to think it was Gretchen, but … then I found out more about you. And the more Walt would talk about you – or insist that he didn’t really know you, you were just some person he worked with,” She rolled up her shoulders as she crossed her arms, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, but I could see through his bullshit. I knew you meant something to him. Walt’s devotion to you, and yours to his, it can be very confusing and hard to understand from my position on the outside. You say that you hate him, but … I feel like you’re not being completely honest with me, Jesse. It’s as if you’re insisting on this narrative because you don’t want to see the truth. Did you love him?”

 

                He let the chuckle shudder in the back of his throat. There was a question for the ages.

 

                “Um, I’m still not even sure what you’re asking me. You wanna know if I sucked your husband’s cock? Or if I cried every time he called me stupid, cause I wanted him to be my daddy so badly? Which one is it you think I wanted?”

 

                “Forget it. I’m sorry I asked. I was just trying to understand. I know Walt felt something very strongly for you, very … powerful. I thought maybe it was the same for you.”

 

                It wasn’t something that Jesse could deny, he _had_ felt something, of course, but it had changed and permutated over time so drastically that it had become something he couldn’t even give a name to.

 

                “Like, I don’t know what you want me to say, man. I mean, yeah … at one time, maybe … I – I looked up to him. I _respected_ his … his brilliance, I guess. Not the man so much, ‘cause Walt just had too many issues. He’d turn on me faster than a junkie trying to score blue. But man, he could get us out of some tight jams. He was this … this genius.” It had been inspiring in some cases, often making Jesse forget to be angry at him for fucking them into a corner to begin with. “But you know, Walt screwed up, too. He liked to blame everything on me, and a lot of times, it wasn’t even my fault. He wouldn’t admit it, though. I’d have to fucking beg him to just treat me once with some human fucking decency.” And when he’d finally received it, finally had Walt talking to him like he was someone with an opinion worth paying attention to, the way he would praise his ideas, would hang out with him over beers – it had been a grand time while it lasted, Jesse practically bouncing on air most days.

 

                “So, it was simply respect, then? What you felt for him?”

 

                “No, I didn’t say that. It was just a part of it. When Walt talked to you like you mattered, then it was a different story. It felt good, okay? Is that what you want? I liked it when I made him … happy. He made me feel important. Like, I was worth something. Like … _he cared._ But it wasn’t ever really true. I saw his face in the desert, when he told me what he did. Walt never fucking cared about me. He only cared that I was useful to him.” 

 

                Skyler touched his knee, looked like she was about to respond, when a knock at the door signaled their dessert had arrived. She went to answer it and sign the bill, and while she was up, Jesse moved to the bed. She’d been getting heavy on his legs, but also, a change of location meant that she might change the topic of discussion. Walt was often too much to think about in longer than half hour increments, and Jesse needed to give his brain a break. He was particularly chagrined to find out that Skyler had been thinking he was the _other woman_ this whole time. Jesus, that was enough to fry his brain into charred crisps.

 

                They lay on the bed and dipped into the pie, making light comments about its tastiness, but he could see her working things over in her head, the way Walt would sometimes get distracted when he would seize on an idea. She waited until they were finished, until they were sipping their coffee as they sat with legs crossed, to broach what she had been dying to ask.

 

                “In the desert. At that spot where they found Hank and Gomez … you said he told you what he did, but what was that? Is it something you can share with me?”

 

                “Probably not.” It was a ‘ _definitely_ not’ but he was trying to not get upset about it.

 

                She blew on her coffee, keeping her eyes to the cup.  “That word … on your back. Did they … did it happen that night? After they shot Hank and Walt sent you away with them?

 

                He shook his head, pouting his lip. “Nah, not that night. That was when they were trying to … _Todd_ was trying to find out what I’d told them, Schrader and his partner.” He leaned over to set his cup on the bedside table. “They didn’t carve their love poem to me until around a week later.”

 

                “Why?”

 

                Jesse turned to face her, feeling tired and old. “Do you really want to know this, Skyler?”

 

                “I think you really need to tell someone, Jesse. I think it would help.”

 

                Jesse rubbed at his neck, stared up at the ceiling. He had no idea what could constitute _help_ anymore.

 

                “It was the night Andrea was shot.” Tears pricked his eyes instantly, just the feel of her name on his tongue evoking that night, the image of her dropping to the ground so swift to fill his vision. He squeezed them shut, pressed his fingers to his eyelids to keep the tears from going any further, feeling weak whenever they came.  Already he could feel his shoulders starting to shake. “The night Todd killed her,” he said through a thick layer of grief, swallowing a sob. “Made me watch it.”

 

                He heard movement, the shuffling of the bedspread as Skyler came closer to him, arranging pillows and touching his shoulder to make him lean back. He let her take hold of him, let her pull him down so that his head lay in her lap. Jesse felt her hand stroking his hair while she made soothing noises. He let out a gust of breath, curling his body up like an S as his face pressed to her thighs.

 

                “They took you with them?” she asked, her voice hollow.

 

                “It was my punishment. ‘Cause I tried to escape.” He thought of Jack’s words in the van ( _this is on you_ ), but then got a snapshot of Todd’s face back at the compound, how it had lit up with admiration as he inspected the grate back at the pit. _Damn, Jesse, how’d you even make it out of here? No wonder Mr. White liked you so much, you’re real smart._ He had even asked for details, as if popping a bullet into the back of a woman’s skull while her kid slept inside their house was nothing compared to shimmying out of a hole in the ground.

 

                “It was my fault, what happened to Andrea. I thought I could get to them, could save them, but I was stupid. I took a risk and they paid for it.” He cranked his head to see her face, wanting her condemnation. “I just thought they’d kill me, if they caught me. I didn’t think … I couldn’t believe,” Jesse curled back into her leg with a moan. “I figured I’d deserve whatever they did to me after that, but … I didn’t think that through, either.” He’d expected the _worst_ , but he hadn’t had the imagination to understand what that really meant, what they could do to him.

 

                 “Uncle Jack was ready to throw me back in the cell, but Todd … Todd got worried, wouldn’t stop whining about it.” Not able to recreate Jesse’s escape in his head, Todd had asked his uncle if he could bring his toy inside, let him stand guard over his prisoner until they worked out a new solution.

 

                “But Welker wouldn’t stand to have me anywhere near the clubhouse. They had their own rooms in that unit. Told Todd he’d have to keep me locked up in the lab. I was like the puppy he’d brought home that needed housebreaking, I guess.”

 

                Hearing them bicker, knowing that his life hung on whatever concessions Todd managed to wheedle out of his uncle, was a torture in itself. _You shut that pussy up right now, goddammit, or I will end this before it gets started. I don’t care how good his meth is, I don’t want that rat fucker anywhere I can see him, hear him, or smell him. Got that, Todd?_ So Jesse had been carted away, strung up on his leash, arms hung from the beam, while Todd brought down a sleeping bag for the concrete floor and made himself comfortable. Jesse had cried until he was exhausted, unable to even lift his head up after standing there for hours. And then he’d heard Kenny coming into the hall with his lackeys, their hollers and shouts echoing through the chamber.

 

_Go on now, Todd. We got this. He stop cryin’ yet? Christ almighty, I thought he was gonna piss his pants like a little bitch back in the van._

                “They were supposedly the relief, but I could tell Todd wasn’t happy to see them. He tried to make it sound like it was all good, he was just fine hanging out with me, but they wouldn’t let it go. Kenny started to get angry with him, told him to listen to his elders and get the fuck gone. I knew I was in trouble then.” Skyler continued to stroke his hair but he could barely sense her touch, his body feeling like it was vibrating above the bed. He could hear the talking from that night in ghostly voices, snatches of their conversation with each other before they had turned all their attention to him, making his flesh cold.

 

_Only good rat’s a dead rat, Pinkman. But since we ain’t got that luxury, on account of my brother’s decree, we’re gonna have to teach you a little lesson. Boys, get him down._

                “It was over on the table where I would break up sheets of blue. They pinned me down first, but then they got me cuffed to the table legs. I couldn’t move, one of ‘em was sitting on me. And then they showed it to me before they smashed it, broke it into shards and picked the nastiest lookin’ one.” Jesse could hear himself from far away, the sound of water rushing through his ears.

 

                He heard Skyler’s voice disembodied and floating above him. “What did they show you? What was it?”

 

                Kenny was cracking it in half, filing down the point, using the lighter. “The tape. The cd that Schrader made of my confession. They broke it up, sharpened the edges.” Jesse swallowed hard, thinking about that first slice, how he kept wondering where all the screaming was coming from as the men roared and hooted around him. “After a while, Kenny got impatient, it wasn’t moving fast enough for him. Someone opened a blade and they went to work on the other end. They all wanted their own letter, I guess. Surprised they knew how to spell it.”

 

_What the fuck is that, Lester? It’s supposed to be a goddamned R, not a titty on legs._

_Let’s just do him already._

_Goddamn, Lester, whach'you some fucking queer in a faggot bar looking for a date? He ain’t going no where._

                Skyler spoke in a near whisper. “Did they leave you alone after that?”

 

                He shook his head, his eyesight blurry as he tried to picture it. “Nah. They weren’t done.” And they had each wanted their turn, had wanted to make sure that Jesse understood he was a pussy and, _don’t ya know_ , _pussy’s only good for one thing_. Lester going overboard, as usual. Jesse closed his eyes, rolled to his back.

 

                “But come morning, I was a fucking mess. Literally. Todd came in and found me, and he was,” he laughed as he remembered Todd’s expression. “He was not a happy camper.” ( _Well, shit, what happened, Jesse? Why’d you let ‘em go and do that?)_ Skyler brushed a hand by his ear and he grabbed it, holding it to his chest. “See, every time they fucked with me, Todd had to clean it up. Lucky me, he was all I got for a medic. Dude was just as bad with a needle and thread as he was making crystal. But, the rougher the boys got, the more it put Todd behind on schedule, and that shit was hard for him to handle. God forbid, he miss a deadline with his precious Lydia. You shoulda heard him go on about her. Fucking creepy motherfucker. If I had to hear about her perfect earlobes one more time…”

 

                “How often did it happen? You said … you said they came to bring you to the showers when they ... Was it always Kenny and his men?”

 

                Jesse reflected on the dynamics of the gang again, how it had taken him weeks to figure them out. Plus, there had been Todd’s incessant rambling filling in their backgrounds: Todd talking during the cook, Todd talking every time he brought dinner, or emptied out his shitcan, Todd talking all the fucking time. He was like that kid in school that you would talk to once or twice because everyone else avoided him like the plague because he was such a weirdo, and you were just trying to be nice, but then the kid would take that little bit of kindness and decide you were his new best friend and he’d follow you everywhere you went. And then the kid turned out to be a murdering psychopath.

 

                “See, the thing you have to understand is – these guys were like a bad soap opera most of the time. They all had their little cliques and little rivalries, and the hurt feelings and dysfunctional family jealousies – it could get ridiculous. But the main thing was, Welker was in charge and ran things his way and if you didn’t like it, you could get the fuck out. But Kenny … Kenny was his little brother. So major fucking drama there, ‘cause Kenny liked to fancy himself the ideas man. Always coming to Jack with a new venture, new way to do business. And usually, Jack didn’t give a shit about any of it. He was totally old school. But Todd … Todd was his boy. Like a son, probably. Todd went on about Jack all the time, guy practically raised him, so … yeah, good parenting skills there, Jack.”

 

                Jesse had sensed the tension every time Kenny’s crew came into the lab. Todd wanted the place to be his little hideaway, his own business, wanted to be a man in charge, but Kenny constantly belittled him, made fun of everything he did whenever Jack was out of earshot, and Jesse had seized on that friction, looked for ways to make it a fire.

 

                “Maybe a few weeks after that night, the three of them came and pulled me out of the hole. Took me to this other building in the back of the property. Looked like a bunker. I don’t think the rest of the gang used it for anything, maybe didn’t even know about it; it seemed to be Kenny’s special place.” He shivered, recalled the first time he saw the room, saw the video camera standing ominously in the corner, like a fucking vulture.

 

                “See, uh … Kenny and Frankie, they ran this website.” He felt the ice in his blood, his face draining, making his cheeks and his teeth hurt. “I guess you could call it torture porn … with the emphasis on the porn part. You know – or maybe you don’t – but it was one of those fucked-up hardcore sites that has, like, subscriptions to live shows and shit. People would watch from wherever and type in what they wanted to see. The boys, uh, made me watch some of the stuff they’d done. They’d had girls there, sometimes guys. I got the distinct feeling it wasn’t anything consensual.” Some of those girls hadn’t looked older than eighteen, their faces terrified. If those creeps had done snuff films, too, it wouldn’t have surprised him. It smelled like death in there.

 

                “Jesus Christ,” he heard Skyler mutter.

 

                He paused, wondering whether he should continue, if he was getting too descriptive. But Jesse didn’t feel like he had control of the words leaving his mouth, the story like a bad case of diarrhea running out of him.

 

_This is how it’s going to be, Pink-man. We got our public to satisfy. Now get on that table on your hands and knees, boy. Some of our viewers want to see what you can take up your ass._

_Fuckin’-a, that ass looks like it belongs on a fourteen year old girl. I don’t know whether to fuck it or kiss it._

_Jesus H. Christ, Lester, what the fuck is wrong with you?_

                Jesse covered his eyes, he noticed his hand trembling. “It was, um, pretty bad in there. I never knew what they were going to do to me. Never knew how to … get ready for it. After the first time … after that, they’d make me do a bump with them to start things off. They liked to f—liked to mess with me while they were high. And me—they’d figured out I could go longer, handle the pain without passing out, if I was on that shit. _”_

               At a certain point, Jesse had welcomed it, desperate for that hit before they turned the camera on. It had been particularly humiliating having Lester roll his fat fingers in the dust until they were coated, shoving them up Jesse’s ass for a little extra sensation, but after a while, he had welcomed that, too. The camera light would come on, and he’d shut his brain off. Sometimes they used the lightstand with the umbrella behind it to light the room, other times, it was the flashing strobe lights of neon green, making him feel like he was in the haunted house they used to erect at the fairgrounds every Halloween, only the horrors didn’t jump out at him, they were inside him and around him and they wouldn’t fucking stop.

 

                “Made me realize just how many sick fucks there are out there. They liked seeing me burned up, especially. Knives, pliers, crowbars, whatever those guys brought in there got used. _(baseball bats, blowtorches)._ I think it pissed off Kenny that he couldn’t ever take it _too_ far, ‘cause his stupid nephew wouldn’t have been able to fix me up again.” Then there had been the things that didn’t leave marks on his body but had fucked him up all the same. He couldn’t even let his mind wander back to what Lester had done to him the last night he was in that helltrap.

 

               “But then I started to realize that Jack didn’t know about this little side business of Kenny’s, and furthermore, Kenny _didn’t want_ Jack to know about it. Todd was in the dark, too, and he was getting more and more freakedevery time he’d find me the next morning after one of those sessions. You know, I started asking him to tell me more about his uncles, but … I had to be careful about it. Couldn’t get him too suspicious.” Plus, Kenny had threatened him. _You say one goddamned word, Pinkman, I will slice off your dick and make you choke on it._

                And then there had been Lester.

 

               “And then there was Lester.”

 

                He thought back to the night Walt showed up, how it had felt having Walt on top of him as the bullets rained down and explosions filled his ears. Jesse had been almost disappointed that Walt’s gun had taken Lester out, that all he’d had left was Todd to strangle.

 

                “Lester was this big, fucking, circus-freak, Sasquatch-motherfucker. Liked to Brylcreem his moustache, make it stick out like swords. He looked like he could shit bowling balls and beat you over the head with them. But … I think Lester was … gay. Like, really gay, not prison gay. And I think it really pissed him off that he was. And so he liked to take that shit out on me. A lot.”

 

 _You’re my little kitten, baby. I’m gonna make it so sweet for you._ That fucking swastika on the front of Lester’s shoulder seared to Jesse’s retinas, all he could see some nights as the fucker bent him in half, always taking him on his back so he could hold him and leave sloppy kisses all over him. And then Lester would remember that he wasn’t supposed to be this way.

 

                “It was pretty scary when he’d come down. Dude didn’t always know his own strength. He tried to put my head through the wall once. I was knocked unconscious for half a day. Todd was fucking on a roll when I came to. My hearing on this side,” he held up a hand to his right ear, “it’s still kind of fucked up. I don’t always catch everything too good.” He remembered how Lester had cried over him the next night, full of apologies, before starting his shit all over again.

 

                “He crushed some of the bones in my hand once. I couldn’t make blue for five days. I had to coach Todd, and still the batch came out shitty. Lydia was not impressed. So I told Todd, you know, Kenny and his goofballs, they were really fucking with Todd’s business, right? You don’t fuck with a man’s livelihood or his love life like that. Kept twisting the knife in, got him real riled up. But damn, if that guy wasn’t the hardest fucker to motivate.” _I don’t know, Jesse, he’s my uncle, and all. I can’t rat him out to Jack. That ain’t right._

_“_ I thought I was gonna fucking lose it, trying to have a conversation with that guy. You know, he only ever really wanted to talk about one thing.”

 

_Jesse, I heard them spic girls like to take it in the butt. Is that true? Yours was real pretty, though. You think Lydia would like that? She seems like she’d want it all fancy._

_Jesse, what do you think Lydia eats at dinner?_

_Man, Jesse, I bet you had a lot of pretty girlfriends, huh? You probably kissed ‘em real nice, and all, like in the movies._

_Hey, Jesse, you think you could show me?_

                Skyler spoke, making him jump. “My God, Jesse, how’d you even manage to deal with these men? Was it like this the whole time you were there?”

 

                “Well, that’s the thing. I wasn’t gonna last long if I let them keep it up. Todd wasn’t gonna do shit about them, so I figured I’d have to take things into my own hands.” And in his mouth. Wherever they wanted to put it.

 

                “What did you do?”

 

                Jesse took a deep, shuddering breath, his mouth dry. He needed some water. “God, I’m thirsty.”

 

                “Wait, stay here.” Skyler slipped out from under him and disappeared. He heard the faucet turn on in the bathroom and a minute later she was handing him a cup to drink from. She arranged herself back on the bed as before while he gulped the water down, slaking his parched throat. When he finished, she lay his head back down, shifting so that he was comfortable with her underneath him. The tenderness of the gesture made Jesse want to cry. He breathed in again, trying to collect himself.

 

                “Go on, Jesse.”

 

                “Todd had told me about this meeting he and Jack had with some Vegas guys coming up in the week. They did other things besides sit around on their asses in that clubhouse watching tv all day, I guess. Other shakedowns to tend to. Kept talking about this fight that they wanted to see, that Jack wanted to be back in time for but they had to go all the way out to Los Alamos first. Then I found out that Kenny and them had been gone a few days out of town. They’d be coming back to watch me while everyone else was out.” And a plan had started to form. It hadn’t been much, and it could have gone terribly, terribly wrong, but it was all he had to work with.

 

                “So, then the day came and I was working in the lab, doing my thing, and of course they came and found me. ‘Cause I knew they weren’t going to let that opportunity go to waste.  I didn’t know if they’d had anything planned, but I knew they’d want to fuck with me.” Every nerve in his body had felt like a broken down power line, snapping and sizzling inside of him.

 

_Well, lookee what we got here, fellas. What we gonna do with Little Miss Blue, today? Don’t she look so pretty on her leash._

_Did you miss us, darlin’? We sure missed you._

_God damn, that stink, though. What, you shit your pants, Pinkman?_

                “But I had to time it up right. I had to keep finding ways to check Kenny’s watch, see when it was getting close. I mean, it was rough, waiting, and I got worried there that they’d find some way to get me in the black room. I just had to keep, you know, praying that it would work out in my favor.” The potential for it all to blow up in his face had scared the shit out of him, but he’d had to try.

 

                “I knew I had to get them in the clubhouse. Had to make sure Welker would find us.” That had been the hardest part, the worst that he had ever felt. It had been one thing to simply get through them pumping their cocks in this throat like a jackhammer until his eyes watered and he couldn’t breathe, it had been another thing entirely to have to convince them that he liked it.

 

                _Yeah, I want see what it’s like in there. Let you do me on the pool table that Todd keeps talking about. You could film it, if you want. I’ll take you all on, just like you wanted. You know what a whore I am._

_Holy shit, Pinkman, you fucking cumdumpster. I knew there was something off about you, fuckin’ homo. You get off on this shit. You’re like one of them masochists. Should get you a gimp mask._

_C’mon, guys, you said you’d share him with me. I wanna split him open._

_Lester, my dick ain’t touching yours, I don’t care whose booty it is, you fucking freak._

“I got them in there, though.”

 

                Lester had hoisted him over his shoulder, his bare ass to the sky, as the trio had marched him to the main building. He’d had to resist the urge to spew vomit all down Lester’s back. It had been trying on his entire nervous system to get them to just abuse his mouth and leave the rest of him alone, Lester’s suggestions getting worse and worse every few minutes. His hands had been as busy as his tongue and his excuses. Every other moment, Jesse’s mind would slip back to the Crossroads motel rooms he’d frequented, would think about Wendy and the shit she went through every day. He thought about the things he’d paid her to do. The utter disgust he felt for himself in that hour, wishing it would hurry up and finish, that Jack would walk in and blow his head off or throw him in a ditch, anything so he didn’t have to feel this dirty, this vile, any longer.

 

                “I had to keep them loud, get ‘em really shouting and everything. Say shit to make them laugh. Whatever it took. And then, finally, the door opened. They didn’t even notice, at first. But Welker sure as shit noticed.”

 

_The fuck?! What the god damned hell is going on here?! What’s all this queer debauchery in **my** fucking place? Jesus, Kenny, put that dick away before my eyes burn. What’s that piece of shit doing in here? What did I fucking tell you, goddammit!_

                “What happened? Christ, Jesse, did they hurt you?”

 

               “Nah. They didn’t touch me. Jack made Todd take me away. He took Kenny out front for a talk, away from the men.”

 

                Todd had thrown his jacket over Jesse, to hide his nudity from the other men, had pulled on the center of the chain connecting his wrists so that Jesse had to follow behind him, like a donkey. And Jesse hadn’t been able to stop it from coming, as soon as his back was to the group, Todd up in front of him. A smile had grazed his lips, that victorious feeling making his heart sing for the first time in months.

 

                “They didn’t touch me again after that. None of them would even come see me. For the rest of my time there, it was just me and the cyborg. Some days, I’d be mostly by myself. Until Mr. White showed up.”

 

                When he stopped speaking, Skyler let out a slow, shaky breath. Her fingertips slowly brushed over him, caressing his forehead, his cheek, down his neck, along his side. Jesse turned around, buried his face to her belly, curled his legs up tightly so that he lay in a fetal position. He could feel his eyeballs rolling and twitching under the lids, could hear his breathing hitch now and again, but mostly he just felt tired, as if he’d been running forever and had just needed a moment to rest. Skyler would stay or she would be repulsed by him, it was out of his hands, but for now, he was just happy to have her near.

 

                They fell asleep entwined together, still above the comforter. He awoke in the middle of the night, needing to piss. The bathroom light was bright and glaring, making him shield his eyes, but they grew used to it while he stood there, the sound of the toilet filling up making him realize his thirst again. Jesse poured himself some more water, gulped it down, caught his reflection in the mirror as he set the cup on the basin. He looked hard at his face, wondered what his mother would think of him now, with the beard and the scars. Would he scare her if she ever saw him? Would she open her arms to him? Would his father even acknowledge him? It felt strange to think of them as a part of his life, like they’d been cut away like a picture out of a magazine, a scrapbook memento that no longer had anything to do with his reality now. He wondered what people saw there when they looked at this face. What Skyler saw. What Walt had seen that last time they’d nodded goodbye.

 

                “Jesse?”

 

                He heard Skyler call for him from the other room. “I’m in here,” he said, an echo to his voice. “I’ll be right there.”

 

                Jesse turned out the light and returned to her embrace, dropping his robe on the floor along the way.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Skyler's eyes get a little green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author keeps adding musical interludes into the story, because the author likes to take inspiration from the music she listens to. Here's another musical cue, for later in the chapter:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlFP2CBOhDs  
> and because the author loved this band so much, here's another for texture:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THlgU-8dMYg&feature=kp  
> Sorry, but this author sucks at mixes and doesn't really think one would be appropriate here, but there will probably be more lyrics ahead.
> 
> This is a long chapter with a lot of talk. The author begs your forgiveness at the indulgence, but there was a lot to get out of the way before the real action begins. Some of it had to get bumped to the next chapter.
> 
> As always, much thanks to warriorpoet.

 

**_Chapter 12_ **

****

                “ _No no no no, you don’t hafftodothat. I’ll get on it.”_

Skyler turned her head towards Jesse’s voice as she came into consciousness. He was talking in his sleep again. She felt his body jerk — he’d been routinely spasmodic all night _,_ waking her every half hour or so with one or the other. She would rub her hand over him gently, either on his back or across his belly, pulling him closer so she could catch her legs around his, and Jesse would quiet down, fall back into his regular breathing pattern.

 

                She stroked his hair and made shushing noises in his ear, wanting him to get more rest, but the light was fanning through the curtains, leaving the room unbearably warm, and Skyler was eager to get up. The heater resumed its hum, making her want to kick off the covers. She needed some air.  Or a latte. A latte would help.

 

                Sliding out of her side of the bed as quietly and as stiffly as she could, Skyler reached for her robe and padded softly towards the bathroom. She stopped by her suitcase first, wrangling free some clothes and clean lingerie. She got ready for the morning, startled by her face in the mirror at first – she’d forgotten about her new hair color – and then slipped from the room to make the run for breakfast.

 

                It felt bracing when she stepped outside into the cold. She took a deep breath to fill up her lungs. The sun was already imbuing the sky with color, and Skyler thought that, even against the odds, she really needed to get Jesse out of that hotel room and into the light. He needed some sunshine to sweep through his soul more than anyone she’d ever met.

 

                Hearing his story had been distressing, but Skyler was strengthened by it, too; felt that it had been important for her to know, that Jesse had _needed_ her to know. If he had made it through that horror show, than she could whip a little drinking dependency, and she had that surety again that she’d made the right choice to stay, that they could help each other. Yet, there were the images that lingered even now, the descriptions he had given her as vivid as the paintings in his studio. It had been difficult enough to think about the violence on his back, but the terror and indignities he had suffered at their hands in that terrible room – she worried about the legacy it left. Not just in Jesse, but on the wire of the underground, making him a familiar face to debasement junkies everywhere. Skyler thought it likely that more than a few of them watched the news.

 

                There was already an energy building on the main strip of street that ran through the heart of the town. It looked like a stage had been erected near the water. Banners were everywhere, colored flags running from pole to pole, and there was a good sized group of people milling outside of the coffee shop, holding their cups of morning jolts with sleepy faces while bundled up in coats and scarves. It was cold, but the sun warmed her through when it hit her. The glasses she wore hid most of her face, but she still pulled the hood from her coat over her head, shielding her from strangers passing who may have remembered the story of that chemistry teacher who peddled meth, and the wife he left behind. It was impossible to avoid being recognized in Albuquerque, and yet she had continued to live there for some reason. Having no money had kept her there at first, but her son was a millionaire now, and still she stayed put. She recalled the time a woman spit at her while she was shopping for groceries, the thick glob of saliva missing her face but landing on her arm. Skyler laughed out loud at the memory, drawing a few stares. Why hadn’t she changed her appearance before? Had she been settling for the community’s judgment, one a jury had never been afforded the opportunity to decide? Too depressed to even combat their castigation, her sentence had been to live among the people of the city where her husband’s work had taken its toll, and Skyler had resigned herself to it, a sense of inertia stifling every day she spent there.               

 

                It was different in this place. Walking in to the coffee shop, she felt like she had been weighed down at the bottom of a pool and had only just realized that all she needed to float up to the surface was to remove that heavy anchor from around her neck. The buoyancy made her feel drunk, an ironic state to be in, but waves of light and sound inundated her all the same. She had broken through the water and was bobbing along, watching the ripples spreading around her, her eyes seeing everything and everyone at once in a manner that was no longer superficial, but contained a critical knowing _:_ the understanding that she needed to feel connected as much as the next person. That being connected to Jesse had been a gift, all wrapped up in ribbons and bows, and that she needed to protect it.

 

                When she got back to the hotel lobby, she heard her phone buzz in her pocket, assumed it was Marie checking in for her daily synopsis of whatever had transpired with Skyler the day before. She decided to make Marie wait a while as her hands were full. Skyler had struggled with keeping a stable facade during their calls, not wanting Marie to worry about her rapidly declining state. Yet, here it was, early in the morning on her sixth day without a drink, and she hadn’t any signs of an oncoming headache, her only craving the caffeine in her espresso, just like every other person on the planet. The knowledge of that made her walk a little faster, wanting to get back to Jesse quickly so she could crawl under the covers to ease him awake into a tranquil place.

 

                That wasn’t to be the case, however, for as soon as she opened the door she saw that Jesse was already up. He stood in the center of the room, dressed only in a pair of jeans, and woefully agape at her entrance.

 

                “Oh, hey,” she said, holding the door open with her foot while she reached down to pick up their drinks, the bag of muffins hitting her thigh. “I thought I’d let you sleep a little longer. Seemed like you could use it.”

 

                She walked over to the desk and set their breakfast down, turned with a smile and stroked his face as soon as she was near enough. Skyler bent her head to kiss him on the mouth, since it was still hanging slightly open. He cranked his neck backward, froze for a moment, then swooped in for something a little more passionate than a morning peck. She grabbed him at the waist and planted her feet, as the force of his exuberance threatened to topple them both over. Jesse pulled back again, looking awkward and unsure, before deciding to try again. The second time was more tentative, but Skyler held him closer with a tighter grip, arms wrapping around him and her tongue brushing over his teeth and lips as she pressed them to open. She started to step toward the bed, pushing Jesse along with her in the process.

 

                “Uh, wait. Sorry, you brought coffee?” He broke away from her, standing with legs locked and pointedly holding her wrists.

 

                “Yes, of course. No need to apologize, hon.” She swept a few fingers across his forehead, brushing his hair from his eyes. “I thought you might be hungry, so I picked up some muffins. I can call up room service if you want something a bit more substantial, but it’s still pretty busy down there. Figured it could take a while.”

 

                “Nah, this is good.  I mean, thanks. You … I got a little freaked out when you weren’t around,” he said, tensing his jaw. “Didn’t think about a coffee run. Duh.”

 

                “I’m sorry. I meant to be here when you woke up. I just wanted … wanted you to get some rest. You had a rough night, lots of tossing and turning. Which, of course, wasn’t at all surprising, but … you needed the sleep, Jesse.”

 

                He smirked at her, rubbing at his chin. “I don’t know about that. Just brings too many nightmares. I guess … it was probably good that you weren’t here when I did wake. I can be a little … well, anyway. Thanks for breakfast.”

 

                Skyler thought about the light outside again, wanted Jesse to bask in it. “Let’s see what’s happening in this festival. What do you say? Just take a stroll around, it feels good out there.”

 

                “What do you mean? Like, stroll around how? Like together? Are you nuts?” He dipped his head. “Uh, no offense.”

 

                “I’ve been really low-key since we got here, covering myself up when I can, and now I don’t look anything like Heisenberg’s widow, at first glance. The only people who have seen us together before are Lacey and the sheriff. You’re allowed to have friends, right? I can be a friend.”

 

                Jesse gazed off, scratched at his chest, and Skyler winced inside seeing him leave streaks on the faded pink burn marks there. Every time she observed his body, she found more scars. This time, she noticed a puckered line sliced under a nipple. She handed him his espresso. “Here, it’s getting cold.”

 

                “I think – I think it’s pretty risky. The sheriff is definitely going to be around; hell, the whole department will be on one of the boats. I mean, what do I say if we run into them? It could be seen as weird. Suspicious.”

 

                “It’s suspicious and weird that you might have a female companion? That sounds dire.” His expression suggested that she was trying his patience. “Look, I understand, I’m not unaware of the danger. I just think … it would be good for us to be outside, in the sun, together. Like the day that we made the snowman with Holly. That was nice. I mean, before I started yelling at you and everything.”

 

                “Okay, that’s not fair. Using the image of your little girl throwing snowballs to get me to change my mind? You’re, like, devious.”

 

                She stepped up to him, circled his waist with her arms. “I am. You are powerless under my charms. I will make you forget all reason.” He arched an eyebrow, eyed her up and down, but let her hold him.

 

                “You feelin’ alright?”

 

                Skyler tried again, pulling the cup back out of his hand and setting it aside. She wanted him to see she was solicitous, wanted only to convince him of one thing. Jesse grew more concerned before she wrapped herself around him again. She pressed her lips to his cheekbone, moved her mouth up to his ear.

 

                “Let me take care of you today, baby. Please.”

 

                They ended up back in bed, Jesse’s arms stretched over his head as he gave her access to every part of him. It was another intoxicating moment for Skyler, and she felt greedy, grabby, frantic for more – always more.  There was a desperate need clawing inside of her to kiss each patch of exposed skin before he changed his mind, covered himself again. When she climbed on top of him, his body rolled and rocked beneath her, hips thrusting upwards as she came down hard to meet them. The faster they fucked, the deeper Jesse’s groans, until they were both almost there and Jesse started to cry out, his mouth open but eyes shut tight. When Skyler came, with her head tipped back and her tits aimed heavenward, Jesse followed right after, calling for her once, and then exhausting himself into her, his eyes wide open and staring at her as he had that first day in the diner. She stretched herself across him when they were done, her arms sliding up under his back and shoulders so she could hook her fingers over the top of them. Skyler held on while his breathing slowed, his gaze still locked to hers. She was good at holding on.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                “You see what I see?”

 

                Skyler craned her head so she could peer around the wall where Jesse had dragged her, suddenly and raggedly, and glanced at the spot where he’d left his truck. A family blocked her view, at first, but once they sauntered off she saw who Jesse was referring to right away – the doctor was leaning back against the hood of Jesse’s Ford talking to the sheriff, a man dressed as the deputy, and another portly gentleman she’d not seen before. They were laughing gaily at a shared comment, but there was no way that Skyler and Jesse could make it past them without being noticed. The group looked to be waiting purposely for Jesse’s appearance.

 

                “What, is that your fan club or something?” she cracked, agitated by their chosen location to take root.

 

                “Yeah, ha ha, but what did I tell you? I said it wasn’t a good idea, and now look. You got any more suggestions, Einstein?” His tone was soft, teasing her lightly. It surprised her that he wasn’t making a bigger deal about it, given his tendency to overreact, and this was the perfect opportunity.

 

                “They’re obviously waiting for you. Why don’t you just go to them, get them out of the way, and I’ll meet you behind the coffee shop in fifteen minutes.”

 

                “What if they go in there, though?”

 

                “Well, that’s why I said _behind_ the building, but if you don’t think that’s a safe place, you tell me where to meet. You’re the one who knows these people, Jesse. Where can we avoid them?”

 

                “I’m gonna get in my truck after I say hello, and drive it to the bank on Tlingit Road. It’s a couple blocks over to the east, so start walking now. At least it’ll be away from the crowds.”

 

                He walked out from their hiding spot, resolute as he trod toward his truck where his court awaited. For someone who was trying to disappear, Jesse sure liked to make himself stand out. She watched him from her safe corner, and when the men saw him coming, they were all smiles. Skyler frowned. This wasn’t going to be a five minute dispatch.

 

                The coffee shop still had a steady stream of people pouring in and out of its doors, and it was three fronts down from the Thai restaurant where Jesse was parked. She looked behind her to see what streets were open to her, but then glanced back along the storefronts. The shops were linked on a strip of sidewalk, but there was at least one more business to the right of the espresso hut. She just needed to go the back way and then come around the other side of the ice cream place. She’d possibly be close enough to hear what the men were saying, which was suddenly very important.

 

                Skyler flipped up her hood and headed in the other direction from Jesse’s little gathering. By the time she had come to the end of the street and was looking for a way to slip through the gap between the two buildings, she had broken into a sweat. Cricket noises filled her purse, alerting her to Marie’s call, and Skyler jumped at the sound, scrambling to a hiding spot before anyone would notice her. She fumbled for her phone.

 

                “What, Marie, I’m busy.”

 

                “Oh, well, hello to you, too. Gee, could we be any more cranky this morning?”

 

                Skyler crept up the alleyway, pinning her body behind a drainpipe as she neared the sidewalk. “Sorry, but I’m in the middle of something. Let me call you later, when this is over.” She found herself whispering, the voices of the people exiting the ice cream shop a little too close for comfort.

 

                “What do you mean? Middle of what? What are you doing?”

 

                Skyler closed her eyes, counted to five. “I’m doing … research for something. I’m – look, I can’t talk right now. I’m trying to see something and I don’t want to look suspicious.”

 

                “Research?” Marie asked. “Skyler, are you spying on someone? Oh my God, are you spying on Jes—our friend?”

 

                “I’m not _spying_ ,” she hissed back. “Okay … maybe just a little. But it’s more like – I’m just watching his back. Seeing what these … these men want with him.” She tried to peer around the pipe inconspicuously. “Look, I have to go, Marie.”

 

                “But wait! Wait, I want to know what’s happening, too. Is it the sheriff? Is the sheriff bothering him?”

 

                “Oh my God, Marie, what did I just say? I’m going to miss everything if you don’t get off the phone!”

 

                “No, hold on, I got an idea. I’m hanging up, so you can position yourself where you need to be and then I’m going to call back on Facetime. I want to see what’s going on.”

 

                Skyler’s mouth hung open, and she gestured to the sky in an appeal to be blessed with a world of patience. “Fine,” she told her sister. “Now hang up.”

 

                Peeking around the drainpipe again, she fixed her sight on them. This view was definitely closer and she could hear snatches of conversation depending on the noise streaming from the doorway to her left. Jesse was resting against the hood, too, right next to the doctor, and Lacey had his hand on Jesse’s back, rubbing it a few times as his voice rose with insistence on whatever he was telling the other men. Skyler rolled her eyes. _Jesus._ Did _everyone_ in town get the memo that this guy had a serious thing for young Mister Hennings? She looked at the men’s expressions, some guarded, some still smiling. The deputy stood with arms crossed, his hair in braids running down either side of his shirt, his skin darker than the rest of them. She couldn’t tell if his stoic mask was simply a trait of his tribe, or if he had the doctor figured out.

 

                The crickets chirped again, and Skyler pressed the button quickly to connect, ceasing the ringtone. Marie looked out from her tiny window, appearing wide-eyed and breathless. Skyler held the screen up, so they could see each other.

 

                “Well, did you fi—Oh. My. Gawwwd! What did you do to your hair? When did this happen? Holy crap, you look completely different.”

 

                “Keep it down. There are people walking by here and I’m trying not to draw attention to myself.” She turned to get another glimpse of the group, following their movements. The fat one was gesticulating a lot, showing off a golf swing.

 

                “Well, why are you following him?” Marie asked in a diminished voice. “Is he in danger? Was it the sheriff, like I guessed? Let me see.”

 

                Skyler was about ready to pitch her phone into the snow and walk away.

 

                “Jesus, Marie, will you calm down? This is meant to be a stealth thing. I’m trying to be stealthy. But to fill in the context, it’s the sheriff _and_ the doctor. Again. He’s hanging all over him.” She wondered if Marie could detect her note of jealousy. “There’s also a deputy and some other guy. They have this parade going on here this weekend, the one the doctor mentioned that day at the hardware store, so everybody is out on the streets.”

 

                “He’s hanging all over him? What does that mean? Will you just hold the damn phone up? I am totally lost here.”

 

                Skyler clenched her jaw, but did as her sister asked and pointed it towards the parking lot love fest. “There, can you even see anything?”

 

                “Sort of. They’re kind of far away, but I can make out his truck. Can’t you use the camera thingy to zoom in?”

 

                She flipped the phone back to glare at her sister’s miniature face. “No, Marie. I’m not using the camera thingy. There’s really not much to see. They’ve been sitting there in the same place for over ten minutes now. What the hell are they even talking about for this long? See, I could probably hear better, if you weren’t yapping at me, asking me what’s happening.”

 

                “Well, why are they even over there?”

 

                But suddenly Lacey was looking right at Jesse, and his goddamn face was practically _beaming_ with light as he grinned about a mile wide. This was getting ridiculous. She imagined the good doctor with heart shapes blinking where his pupils should be. Skyler felt her stomach squirm and then squeeze into a tight fist. “ _Fucking Christ, man,”_ she swore, forgetting about Marie for a moment, “have some self respect.”

 

                “Excuse me? Who are you talking to?” Marie’s perplexed features stared back at her from the screen, but Skyler could only grit her teeth.

 

                “No one, I’m talking to no one, Marie. Just … _observing_ this guy.” She looked over at them again. “I don’t trust him. There’s something … off there.”

 

                “The doctor? Why do you say that? He seemed really nice. I didn’t pick up any sinister vibes from him at all, and I’m really good at reading people.”

 

                Skyler rolled her eyes again. “Really?” she said sarcastically. “Just like you had Walt all figured out, right?”

 

                “Oh, shut up. Like, you have room to talk. I just mean with strangers. He’s _our friend’s_ doctor, right? What could be off about that?”

 

                Skyler was getting tired of gawking at them while they just stood around. No one had moved from their spots in several minutes and she still couldn’t make out a stray word on the wind. She stepped farther into the alleyway. “Look, he didn’t become _our friend’s_ doctor until after he had met him as a civilian. A civilian _in a bar.”_

“A bar? Like, what kind of bar?” Sunlight flashed on Marie’s image for a moment, but Skyler could still make out her creased forehead.

 

                Her laugh was short and mean. “I’ll give you two guesses.”

 

                Marie’s mouth was a perfect oval for the second it took her to digest the implication. “Oh my God. Are you saying,” her voice turned to a whisper, “he’s his _boyfriend?_ ”

 

                “What? I’m not saying that _at all.”_ Skyler’s nostrils flared in her vehemence, her body flushed. _“_ He’s not his boyfriend, he just _wants_ to be.”

 

                “So … you’re saying _our friend_ isn’t interested?”

 

                “Of course, he isn’t interested. It’s his _doctor._ I mean, the whole thing is … it’s inappropriate. And really, just … unbecoming. In a position like that? With _our friend’s_ current state? The man’s got total control over the situation. It seems to me, this is a good example of … mentally manipulating a patient to get what he wants. It’s practically abuse.” She gazed off past the alley, wondering how much longer it was going to take Jesse to get in his truck and get to their rendezvous. “Besides … our friend is heterosexual. I think that’s already been firmly established from previous discussions.”

 

                “Sure, but …” and something about Marie’s tone made Skyler take note of her sister’s expression. “You know … our friend went through quite an ordeal. I think he may be … possibly … readjusting his sexuality to deal with it.”

 

                “What? What the hell are you talking about, Marie? You don’t _know_ anything about what happened, okay? What you’re suggesting – that’s ludicrous.” She felt the stirrings of a major headache coming on.

 

                “Okay – _what_ is up with you? Why are you jumping down my throat over this? And I probably know more on the subject than you, so stop getting so defensive on our friend’s behalf.”

 

                Marie’s repeated allusions to her knowledge of Jesse’s experiences at the compound were now starting to solidify into cohesion. Jesse’s distress over his invasion of privacy, Marie’s shut-down the day they left, and Jesse’s penchant for artistic expression—it all added up. She realized what Marie had done, and she felt livid _for_ Jesse.

 

                “Goddammit, Marie. And how exactly do you _know_ these things? Did our friend tell you? He explained everything?” Her nose was almost touching the phone screen. “Or did you snoop through his drawings?”

 

                Marie’s lips pursed tightly together. She didn’t reply, at first, simply looked behind her. “Look, Holly’s up. I have to go. We’ll talk about this later.” And then her face was gone, the screen back to the photo of Holly and Junior.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”

 

They were walking down by the stage, right in the thick of the crowd. Skyler’s suggestion to go all or nothing was meant to be a diversionary tactic: she doubted any authority figures would be wrestling for space with the teenagers that swarmed around them. A band was getting ready to play on stage, and they looked like the type of act that was meant for the younger patrons of the festival. Long haired men tuned up low-slung guitars, while a girl with her hair coiled into knots atop her head stood at the front adjusting the pedals.

 

It was coming up for late afternoon, and Skyler and Jesse had been hiding out in a grocery store for the better part of the last two hours. She wanted him outside. Glancing at the faces of the kids around them, Skyler looped her arm into his, keeping him close. 

 

“I’m fine. I told you, it was just a stupid argument. It didn’t mean anything. My sister just does a good job of annoying the shit out of me, sometimes.”

 

Jesse looked down at their locked arms. “Uh, getting a little familiar, don’t you think? Someone might –”

 

“Jake? Hey, hon, how _are_ you?!”

 

Skyler bent past Jesse so she could see the girl who had run up and started talking to him. The girl reached her arms up to snake around his neck, and Jesse hugged her back. She was thin and tiny, with long, black hair that reached all the way down to her perfectly shaped ass. The girl grinned into Jesse’s neck and Skyler fought back the urge to push her away.

 

“Hey, Lana, how’s it going? I haven’t seen you at the store in forever.”

 

She shrugged like it was a terrible hardship, her face in an exaggerated frown like she was Marcel Marceau. “I know, but you know, school. I had to take a break from work, just too much research going on. But I’ll be back in spring. I’m so bummed I haven’t seen you, lately. Are you still using the Italian parsley flakes, like I suggested? I’m telling you, it’s good stuff, _sooo_ many healthy properties in that.”

 

Jesse had his mouth open to speak, but glanced at Skyler as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. The girl finally noticed her standing next to them.

 

“Oh, excuse me, did I interrupt? I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

 

Skyler let out a bitter bark of a laugh. _Cunt._

“Sorry. Don’t mind me. It’s just, the last person to call me _ma’am_ ended up being a psychopath.” She laughed again.

 

Jesse’s eyes had widened in alarm at her, but then he plastered on a big, fake smile and turned back to the girl.

 

“Yeah, this is … a friend. Hannah. She’s _visiting_.” Jesse faced her with a warning in his glare. “ _Hannah,_ this is Lana. She works at the organic store I go to. She’s been helping me out with a lot of the herbal stuff I’ve been telling you about, getting me on the antioxidants and whatnot.”

 

But Lana barely acknowledged her. “Hey, Jake, are you going to be around here tomorrow, too? I know you live quite a ways away from town. I had something I’ve been meaning to give you before I leave.” There was a chord of music that suddenly blared from the speaker on stage, and a round of clapping and whooping burped from the crowd, the band apparently close to being ready. Skyler stood with her arms crossed, trying not to tap her foot as she wondered to the purpose of wearing the oversized coat with furred hoodie that Lana was sporting, if the coat was unzipped so that everyone could get a look at her low-cut and very snug pullover.

 

“Oh, wow, these guys are _soooooo_ great! Like, I’ve seen them play at Alabama Jacks, and they are awesome. You should check that place out some time, Jake. But anyway, will you be around? Tomorrow?”

 

“Uh, I don’t know.” Jesse glanced at Skyler again. “Maybe. I’ll have to see. But you know, we could … we could meet up somewhere later. Or … or leave it with Patricia, maybe.”

 

“It’s an art piece, so I don’t want it to get damaged at the store.” Miss Perfect Tits shrugged again. “Just something I made that I wanted you to have. After that incredible painting you gave me – I mean, gosh, I get so many compliments on that, you have no idea. I’ll never be that good. You’re _sooooo_ fucking talented, Jake.”

 

Jesse cast his eyes down and smiled – and it was genuine, heartfelt, shy, embarrassed, and moved all rolled into one _beautiful_ smile. _He_ was beautiful. He fucking glowed, standing in this crowd of people who knew nothing about what he’d been through, had no idea what they had in their midst. Skyler’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in someone else’s grip, someone vicious and cruel, and they were squeezing tight enough for the blood to ooze out and drip down their hand. Perhaps it was Walt. She stared hard at the girl. If Little Miss Organic didn’t run right home and furiously masturbate to that smile, than Skyler had no clue what young women wanted today.

 

Lana was definitely grinning back. “I mean it. I love your work.”

 

“Yeah? Well, maybe I’ll show you some other stuff some time.”

 

“That would be … _fucking_ great. I’d _sooo_ love to see your studio.”

 

Skyler coughed loudly, making a show of it by leaning over to hack into her fist. Jesse turned to acknowledge her again, scratched at his beard. “Yeah, maybe. Like you said, I’m pretty far away.” He nodded to the girl enthusiastically. “But anyway, I’m dying to see your piece. So, I’ll look for you tomorrow, okay? We’re gonna be heading out soon, so …” Jesse tipped his head towards Skyler and the girl was forced to look at her again.

 

“Oh, of course. I’ll let you get back to it. Nice to meet you, Hannah.” Lana pressed her hand to Jesse’s. “ _So_ good to see you again, Jake. Take care, okay?” She walked back into the crowd, up to a friend with big eyes who had apparently been waiting for her during the whole exchange. They walked off together, heads bent close.

 

“Little young, isn’t she?”

 

“Um, she’s working on her Master’s Degree. She’s, like, almost the same age as me.”

 

Skyler gave him a look that suggested it was her greatest hope that one day Lana would be obesely fat with six kids. “Are you going to take her up on her _subtle_ request to see your … studio.”

 

“Why do you say it like that? I can’t show her my studio. Not with all that other stuff there.”

 

“Yes, well, by _studio_ , I think we all know she meant your cock.”

 

Instead of calling her on her jealousy, his expression turned sour.

 

“Don’t worry, alright? She’s a nice girl. Nice girls need to stay as far away from me as fucking possible. Hell, they all do. I’m like, the goddamned kiss of death.”

 

Skyler’s mood instantly warped to concern. She wanted to say something hopeful, to let him know that he wasn’t cursed, that he had a life here he could build into something good. But she also knew she wouldn’t be a part of that life, and so she stayed quiet, held his hand as the music started up once again, the crowd surging forward as the band began to play. A man sat on a stool at the microphone playing a long, old-fashioned accordion, the haunting strains of it cascading from the speakers. It sounded like the music one would hear from a tent revival of Sunday worshipers, but as the crisp wind blew through Skyler, the plaintive notes filled her with a melancholy pang. The bit went on for several minutes, but when he stopped, the crowd applauded as he switched to guitar and started to sing.

 

 _O sinnerman where will you run to_  
_Sinnerman where will you run to_  
_Sinnerman where will you run to_  
_All on that day_  
  
_Run to the mountain_  
_The mountain won’t hide you_  
_Run to the sea_  
_The sea will not have you_  
_And run to your grave_  
_Your grave will not hold you_  
_All on that day_  
  
_See sinnerman_  
_Mountains are falling_  
_Sinnerman_  
_The sea it rages_  
_Sinnerman_  
_The grave will not hold you_  
_All on that day_  
_Run to the lord_  
_Lord please hide me_  
_Run to the lord_  
  
_Sinnerman_  
_Sinnerman_  
_Sinnerman_  
  
_Where you gonna run to_  
_All on that day_  
_Run to the mountain_  
_The mountain won’t hide you_  
_And run to the sea_  
_The sea will not hold you_  
_And run to your grave_  
_The grave will not hide you_  
_All on that day_

Skyler watched the crowd more than she watched the players perform. She kept her eyes open for the sheriff’s men and the ubiquitous doctor, but Jesse’s hand gripping hers increasingly tighter made her turn towards him and take note of his countenance, his gaze held fast to the musicians. Eyes glassy, with tears pooling in the corner ducts, his jaw was clenched so tight that she could see the stark line of it through the scruff of his beard. Skyler listened to the singer’s words.

  
  
_Sinnerman_  
_The mountain is falling_  
_And sinnerman_  
_The sea it rages_  
_And sinnerman_  
_Sinnerman_  
_Sinnerman_  
_Where will you run to_  
_All on that day_  
  
_The mountain won’t hide you_  
_The sea won’t have you_  
_And the grave will not hold you_  
_All on that day_

 

 

She tugged his hand, suddenly eager to guide him through the crowd. “C’mon, baby. It’s time to go.” He followed after a moment, looking bruised and shattered and Skyler had an urgent need to get him back to her room.

 

By the time they made it to the hotel, it was growing dark. Jesse had left his truck on a street behind it, away from the streetlamps. She held him close as they trudged to the back exit, the wind picking up around them, making flurries in the snow. Skyler hooked her arm around his waist in the elevator and he leaned into her shoulder. She breathed deeply from the ache inside her that swelled with the need to offer him comfort. As soon as they were in the safety of her room, she sat him down, untied his boots to slip them off.

 

“Is there anything I can get for you, sweetie? You want me to call up some room service? Whatever you’re in the mood for, we’ve barely eaten today.”

 

He shook his head, grabbed for her hand as she was about to move away. “Skyler? Do you think … do you think I can ever be a good man? Like, is it something you can make happen if you work hard enough? Or am I … will it always be the same?”

 

She pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. “No, sweetie. You _can_ make things change. I believe you can be a good man. You _are_ one, Jesse, I can see it in you. You were this young man who did terrible things and then had terrible things happen to you. But now … now there’s this chance for you to live the way you should have the first time around.”

 

“But do I really? Have that chance? Or is this me just … waiting. Waiting for them to find me. I mean, that’s never gonna go away. Does it even make any difference if I try to be better? Is there, like, some bank that I’m trying to fill my account with good deeds, and I’ll just, like, cash it out when I need it?”

 

“Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say. I just want you to be safe. To protect you, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

 

“Why? After everything that happened to you and your family, and knowing I had a part in it, why would you want to help me? You don’t owe me anything, but me—I bring nothing but misery to everyone I meet. I’m endangering you just by being in this room with you, man. You should run the other way, Skyler, run back to New Mexico and forget you ever met me.”

 

She shifted on her knees and drew in closer, pressed her temple into his collarbone as she embraced him. “I don’t want to run away. I want to be here, with you. Please, Jesse.  Just stay tonight and we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Just do that for me. You need to rest.”

 

When he held her face to his to kiss her, Skyler was already unbuckling his pants. He pulled her on his lap to slip his hands under her sweater, peeling it off and over her head, and she grabbed for him as soon as her hands were free. Her hands shook as she undressed him; she felt like it had been days since her skin had last touched his. It had only been this morning, but the townspeople had spent an afternoon conspiring to take him from her, and Skyler needed to stake her claim again.

 

Jesse flipped her to her back, his legs nudging hers farther apart as he slid between them. He moved in her slowly and sweetly, at first, whispering devotions in her ear, but then she hooked her leg over his and rolled them both, angling her body to straighten atop him. She wanted to see him spread out underneath her, wanted to make him feel everything that was good. With every touch, Jesse became a one-man symphony: he sighed contentedly when her hands stroked him from his shoulders to his pelvis, moaned in three octaves when she rode him, cried out when her teeth scraped along his hip, panted when she took him in her mouth, keened when he came, and then groaned so deeply when she got him hard again, she’d worried that she’d hurt him. It sent a shock through her, to know that she was the source for such music, and she fucked him like she’d never see him again, the bed rocking with such force it banged against the wall.

 

Skyler didn’t care who heard them. In this room, Jesse was hers.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Aw, shit, I forgot to pick up more tea while we were in town.”

 

Jesse shook the empty box, stared blankly inside the cupboard. Skyler came up behind him and put her chin on his shoulder.

 

“Well, you’ve still got some green tea in there, that’ll work.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s not as good. I should have listened to you and stopped at the store before we left. I was just worried we’d run into someone else that knows me. It’s better if we keep that shit to the barest minimum, you know?”

 

“I’m starting to see that lots of people here know you, Jesse. Are they all in love with you, or is it just the women and your doctor friend?”

 

“Oh, wow. You’re hilarious.”

 

They had left shortly after they’d awakened, but that had been fairly late in the day. Skyler had finally given up trying to make Jesse sleep, had endeavored to keep him up all night, instead. At a certain point, she’d finally calmed down, her desperation petered out in the early hours. Having him suggest they come back to his house had only added to the notion that Jesse was comfortable with her, that he could see she was on his side. By telling her his tale, he seemed to have shed a nettlesome skin. There was something lighter and freer in his demeanor, in the way he spoke to her. He had been chatty and bright the entire drive home.

 

“Well, we don’t need tea, anyway. It’s another sunny day. Let’s enjoy it while we can. They’re saying on the newscast that it’ll be a different story tomorrow. We’re supposed to get another snowstorm. Even Marie is worried about it.”

 

He turned to study her. “You still talking to your sister every day?”

 

“It’s Marie. I don’t get a lot of choice in the matter. If I don’t answer my phone, she just ends up sending me twenty emails.”

 

“You, uh … you tell her about us, yet?”

 

Skyler turned away to look elsewhere in the kitchen, stepping up to the counter to open up some random cupboards under the guise of looking for tea alternates. “Um … she’s … not aware that there’s anything going on here other than what I told her at the beginning. That I’m spending time with you to … lay off the vodka, work on some self-improvement, and perhaps get you to talk more about Walt.”

 

“Seriously? And she isn’t even a little bit … suspicious, or anything?”

 

Skyler did look at him then. “No, she doesn’t suspect a thing. And I haven’t said a word to suggest that she should.”

 

His doubt gave way to a half smirk. “So, she just thinks I’m sleeping on the floor every night?”

 

Skyler’s face reddened. “Well … I had to tell her I was back at the hotel. I mean, I was able to have internet service and she saw me online. We Skyped, so … obviously, she knows where I’m staying. She was a little concerned, at the start – thought I’d get up to bad habits, I guess – but … I think she prefers it now.”

 

Jesse was still watching her cautiously, his eyes squinting. “And you didn’t tell her about … the stuff I told you? I mean, I didn’t exactly forbid you, but … I could see she might have questions if she thought you and I were talking.”

 

“Jesse, I – I wouldn’t betray your confidence like that. Even to Marie.” It upset her that she had to explain as much.

 

His hands waved in front of him. “Look, I’m not accusing you, okay? Just asking. You know, I appreciate that – that I can talk to you about it. I mean, tell the truth and everything. I just don’t … it’s not really something I want people to know. Not the fact that I’m the missing meth dealer the police were looking for, obviously, but … you know, the other stuff.”

 

“Of course, Jesse. This is only between us.”

 

 She thought about the piece she had written the other day on her laptop; her first attempt at a story in years.  It had been therapeutic when she’d typed the words out, fingers flying over the keypad like she was playing a piano concerto; the character forming in her head bearing a distinct likeness to the man standing across from her. Skyler promised herself that no one would ever see it, no matter how much it grew. She’d only ever been good at short stories, anyway. Novels tended to reveal the holes in her plots.

 

“I believe you, Skyler.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The snow crunched as they walked the ground, their synchronized footsteps making the sound amplified. Skyler stared at their boots coinciding in movement and felt a keen sense of their shared experience. It was something she used to feel with Walt. Even after the shattering news of his business dealings had started to become just a fact of her life, she’d found a way to rekindle that togetherness with him, the two of them arriving at solutions for the sake of their family. _I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it._ In Walt’s confession, there had been something there that she had understood fundamentally. Spinning her fictions, giving Walt options to sell the story … she had been good at that, too. Having Walt depend on her – to see her as his _partner_ once again – hadn’t just been enormously gratifying, it had felt necessary. She hadn’t been able to leave it alone. In that brief period that they colluded and plotted their way to convincing Hank and Marie where the money had come from, Skyler had felt like she was actually _married_ to Walt, still, that they were back to being a team.

 

That intimacy had dissolved like acid through a floor when Walt had killed Gus Fring, of course. Perhaps even before then, with Walt’s mad ramblings about knocking on doors like he was King Kong. She had been a fool to ever think she could play fucking Bonnie Whats-her-face. The lawyers and the DEA had eaten her alive, had proved to be more than she had been able to handle. In the end, Walt had given her another out. Yet, Walt had been giving her outs since the beginning, hadn’t wanted her to be a part of it, and instead, she had inserted herself into the mess, just as she’d told Jesse. And now, here she was, inserting herself into Jesse’s business, too. She wanted it to be different this time. Or perhaps, that’s what she needed to tell herself.

 

“It’s so beautiful out here. I’m glad I got to see it with the snow. The trees are majestic.”

 

“The summers are pretty great, too. I’m lucky to have this acreage behind the cabin. I come out here a lot. The doc’s had this land in his family for generations, he said. His people were real pioneers, actually helped build Juneau and some of the towns in the panhandle. Doc went away for med school, lived abroad for a while, but he came back here because he loves it so much. I think his parents are dead, but he’s got some family still around. I see pictures of ‘em, and stuff.”

 

Skyler hooked her arm into his, tried not to let the subject of the doctor bother her. “Does he have you over often?”

 

“Um, depends on what you call often. Once a month, maybe? I know … he’d probably have me over more if I, you know, agreed. But … it’s not a good idea to get too close to people.”

 

“Do you think that’s because of Walt? That betrayal from him?”

 

He jerked his head back. “What do you mean? I can’t afford to have people find out too much about me, is all I’m saying.”

 

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said softly. “It isn’t just about protecting yourself from discovery, Jesse. I think you fear real intimacy with anyone. Which, considering your trauma, is somewhat expected, but I get the feeling that it isn’t just about those monsters. Walt’s left his mark on you, too.”

 

Jesse sighed, his breath a plume of cold mist. “I … I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s like … you’re right, it’s not just about my cover being blown. But, what am I supposed to say to that, really? Yeah, I’m fucked up? Yes, absolutely. I can’t – I mean, I can’t even think about him most of the time without getting upset. And maybe that’ll never go away. But not getting close is in _their_ best interest, it’s not about mine.”

 

“What about me?’

 

“What _about_ you?”

 

“Do you feel the same way? That you shouldn’t get close to me because you’re trying to protect me?”

 

“We’ve been pretty fucking close, lately.”

 

She tipped her head back to the sky. “Right. _Physically_ close, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

 

“Yo, I told you things I haven’t told a soul. Super fucked up things. How is that me not letting you get close?”

 

“Yes, okay, lately we’ve been … close, but I had to sort of fight my way in, Jesse.”

 

“Oh, you mean, by handcuffing me after you drugged me, so you could help yourself to all my deep, dark secrets? Is that what you mean by fighting your way in?”

 

Skyler’s faced heated up. It hadn’t been her intention to drive the discussion to her misdeeds. “That was … the wrong way to handle it, I agree. But … as poor and misguided an attempt as it was, the point was to give you an outlet. I worry about you out here, not being able to talk through this with anyone. Marie was right, Jesse. You should be in therapy. And tons of it. Gain some tools to get you through the bad patches. You’re not equipped, right now, to deal with emotional triage. I mean, I want … I want you to be alright.”

 

“I’ve got tools,” he said with a shrug, both hands deep in his coat pockets, but keeping her arm looped with his.

 

“What tools do you have? Going to a bar and giving yourself a cut-off point? That’s not an effective method, Jesse, and I believe we’ve already established that I know whereof I speak.”

 

“No, that’s not what I mean. I do stuff. With my hands, you know – make things. That helps. Sometimes, I draw. Get things out, get ‘em down and throw them away. I got everyone buying my chairs, and that’s good cheddar, but I can make half a dozen a week when I stay up all night. Keeps my mind on better things, right? When I got here, I started with the wood carving, first. I think I was trying to … make that shit on my back not be so … important. I wanted to dig into something, carve out my _own_ design, you know? Something good.”

 

“You … you draw what they did to you?”

 

He stopped them in their tracks, stared at his feet. “It was … just something I needed to do. To work through some stuff. It’s probably not … exactly handled, but it helps, sometimes.”

 

                “These pictures … did my sister see some of them?”

 

                The intense glare he gave her summed up his answer. But Skyler’s concern wasn’t with Marie.

 

                “It’s hard, I know, for you to have that knowledge that Marie has seen what was meant to be something very private and cathartic for you, but … Jesse, it’s not my sister that’s got me worried. Your torture is on the fucking _internet._ People – sick individuals paid to watch that. And it’s still floating around, that stuff never dies. Surely – I mean, someone will recognize you sooner or later.”

 

                Jesse seemed rather unruffled about the prospect. “What makes you think they were pointing the camera at my face?”

 

                “Jesus, Jesse, don’t joke about that degradation. Are you saying no one saw your identity?”

 

                He shook his head. “Nah, they didn’t hide me. _They_ were under masks, though. Used to wear some messed up shit, too. Guess someone was stockpiling for Halloween.” He shivered to emphasize the grotesqueness, but Skyler didn’t want to venture a thought towards the various visages the men may have chosen.

 

                “So we do have to wonder about that. What if they’re tracking those videos, right now?”

 

                “You think the Feds are watching that shit? Skyler, this isn’t the kind of stuff you google. It’s deep in the web, man, with access codes and invites, and this fucked up network of nasty-ass freaks. I told you, they had _young girls_ in there. Kenny wasn’t stupid, I’ll give him that. And say the feds do get tipped to it. What are they gonna do about it? They figure out, what? That I’m alive? Not exactly a solid case there, considering what was being done to me. That I was there at the compound, if they even figure out that’s the location? Well, they already know that. Hell, the camera might still have been there when they investigated the place. So, what can they do with it? There’s no fucking trail. All the other players are dead.”

 

                “But doesn’t it … doesn’t it _bother you_ , that this horror show is still out there?”

 

                “Of course it fucking bothers me!” Jesse finally broke their link and pulled away, moved to stand in front of her on the path. “But I don’t _think_ about it, got it? It was bad enough dealing with what was going on in the room, I can’t worry about the fucking psychos watching it.”

 

                Skyler crossed her arms across her stomach, trying not to feel sick. “But it’s like this continuum, thinking of it all playing out on some constant loop. It’s – it’s barbaric, and I want you to have some peace, Jesse.”

 

                “Look, probably it’s just a bunch of creeps have those shoots downloaded on their computers.  I really don’t think they’ll be showing them off to their family and friends; maybe passing them around on hard copy to other freaks. But I can’t stress about that, I got plenty of other shit to stress me out. I mean, you wanna know what got the most hits on those nights? ‘Cause Lester liked to point it out a lot. It wasn’t when I got torched, or when they stuck me with knives, or fucked me with a baseball bat. It was after. When _I cried._ That’s what got ‘em _really_ excited. So, I lied, sorta. ‘Cause those fucks did make sure the camera was on my face to capture those special moments. It was their money shot, I guess. And they had to make it happen every time.”

 

                The sun disappeared behind a cloud at that moment, and Skyler shivered with change, but it wasn’t from the chill. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drudge this up for you again.”

 

                “Whatever. Let’s not talk about this anymore and ruin our walk. Just … come on. Take my hand. I’m gonna show you something.”

 

                He took her off the path and through a break in the trees on their left, the forest floor dropping away beneath them to a steep decline. When they reached the bottom, Jesse’s fingers still knitted through hers, he pulled her along for a while until she could see that they were headed in the direction of a large brush, the sun’s rays piercing a cloud to shine behind the wall of leaves. He slowed his walk, keeping her behind him, and she followed him to a large tree on the other side of the bushes. A pool was revealed, a few ducks floating on its surface. Skyler scanned the area, as she crouched behind Jesse with held breath, waiting to see what he wanted to show her. He put a finger to his lips and then pointed to a spot to their right.

 

                A large buck broke through the screen of foliage and wandered to the pond, bending its head to drink. Jesse squeezed her hand and Skyler returned it, sharing in the thrill of witnessing a creature of such stature and grace. Jesse tilted his head close to hers, whispered in her ear.

 

                “This is totally cool. Mike must have known we were coming. Sometimes I gotta wait an hour or more before I see any of them. But they like to hang out here a lot. I saw a moose a few weeks ago. Huge fucker, too. Those antlers are fucking insane.”

 

                The buck lifted its head, sniffed the air as it stilled. Jesse stopped talking and put his arm around her shoulder, pulled her behind the wide trunk of the fir they hid behind.

 

                “Who’s Mike?” she whispered back. “Not your friend?”

 

                He pointed to the deer. “ _That’s_ Mike.”

 

                They watched for countless minutes -- Skyler lost track of time— as the animal went back to its drinking, but then a twig cracked and the buck bolted, bounding through the brush with elegant ease. Skyler heard a low grunt and snuffle of breath, felt Jesse grab her tightly, making her take a step back. She saw the beast before he fingered it this time, and was alarmed by its proximity. The elk stepped into the clearing not even a dozen feet from where they stood.

 

                “Holy shit,” Jesse muttered, his grip still firmly around her waist. “That guy is a monster.”

 

                It was as big an animal as Skyler had ever seen this close. Certainly, she and Walt had never come across anything as large in their camping days. Its antlers sat atop its head like a great crown, the scallops of each tine like thorns, and the branches resembling a carriage. It appeared to be looking at them, and Skyler wasn’t sure if its placid expression denoted friend or foe. Jesse seemed to think the latter.

 

                “Aw, dude is pissed. Look at that glare. He’s letting us know we’re on his territory and he ain’t taking kindly.”

 

                “Do you have a name for this one, too?”

 

                She felt him shake his head. “Nah, never seen this one before. Looks like Walter, though, don’t you think? I mean, hell, I can see that porkpie hat just looking at this mug. He’s giving us the beady eyes, like when Walt would get mad because somebody dissed his name or something.”

 

                “Should we leave? Is it dangerous to us?” The idea of Walt watching the two of them was unsettling.

 

                “Can’t do that. It’ll only give him a hard-on, get all alpha on us. Gotta stand your ground. Yeah, he’s looking at us, alright. Probably knows what’s been going on.”

 

                “What do you mean? Who knows?” But Jesse was motioning her to stand behind him.

 

                “Yeah, you know what’s been happening, don’t you, Walt?” Jesse said loudly, addressing the elk. “Bet you are _shitting yourself,_ just like on that phone call out to the desert. So angry, you fuck, that I couldn’t get you. Brock was okay, right? So none of it mattered! That’s fucking Walt logic if I ever heard it. You piece of shit.”

 

                The animal hadn’t moved, was frozen in place, but Skyler’s anxiety bloomed the more Jesse talked. “Hon, what are you doing? You’re baiting it. Let’s just leave.”

 

                “But balling your _wife,_ Jack? I _know_ you can’t let that slide. Must be killing you, huh, asshole? Especially, when I can take care of her better than your old, wrinkly prick. Bet it makes you wanna send me to those Nazi fucks all over again, huh? Or maybe you want to do it yourself this time? Wishing you had that gun now, don’t you? Cocksucker.”

 

                She grabbed him by his arm, started pulling him away. “Jesse, stop. This is dangerous.” She wasn’t sure if she was referring to the animal or Jesse’s confrontation with a ghost.

 

                “I see you, Walt!” he shouted, jabbing a finger towards the beast. “Say _my_ name, bitch! Pinkman! It’s fucking _Pinkman_ to you! You, fucking motherfucker.”

 

                The animal finally moved, shifting backwards as its hind quarters shook. It tilted its head up, snorted on the air, and turned to walk away, moving in no particular hurry to be gone. The branches crackled as it walked past, its white tail stuck straight up in their direction.

 

                Skyler gathered up Jesse, like she used to with Junior before he got too big, and put a hand to the back of his neck. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but Jesse was seething in fury, teeth bared as he stared after the elk. She wondered again about their relationship, how Walt had fought for Jesse, and yet had cut him down in swaths, had whittled away at his young partner until there was nothing but this destroyed and damaged man standing next to her. She thought about that kind of love, had felt it in tides, when she had been at her weakest, but imagined that, ultimately, she’d been spared this egregious mindfuck. It made her hate Walter a little more, yet she wasn’t sure if it was on Jesse’s behalf or for hers: that Walt hadn’t cared enough about her to put forth that much effort.

 

                A bird cried overhead as she led him away, Jesse still looking over his shoulder to where his Walt spirit had gone.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                “You want some more?”

 

                He held up the salad bowl in offering, but Skyler begged off, her mind momentarily interrupted from her wishes of a large-bowled Bordeaux glass filled to the brim with a top notch Pinot. The meeting in the woods, with Jesse’s fixation on Walt, had unnerved her, and it felt plain cruel to have to sit through dinner sans a decent wine. It didn’t even have to be decent. But Jesse’s earlier rant hadn’t been the only thing to worry her, and Skyler had spent most of the meal letting him carry the bulk of the conversation. Sometimes there would be a lull, and they’d both eat while consumed with their thoughts, but their plates were empty now and Skyler had one burning question on repeat.

 

                “Jesse … we got in so late. And it’s almost seven. I’m just wondering … did you …?  Would you prefer to get on the road now? Or … I mean, is there a rush?”

 

                “You wanna know if you can stay here tonight?” he asked her bluntly.

 

                “Well,” she gushed, “it’s up to you, of course. I just want to … I mean, if you’d rather I go back to my hotel, I completely understand. But it’s … it’s been a nice day. A nice _weekend_ , and it would be lovely to just … talk some more.”

 

                He scratched at his arm, let out a long exhale with a puff of his lips. “I mean, I guess it’ll be okay. It seems like some of your crazy has chilled; you’re kind of, you know, keeping it together. Do you feel better?”

 

                “I do,” she said, nodding for emphasis. “I don’t feel so shaky. The headaches aren’t as frequent. I can get food down and not feel nauseous. I’m … really, so much better than the other day. I think the walk did me good, helped me clear my head. I feel stronger. Thank you for taking me, Jesse.”

 

                “Yeah, no problem. Sorry about all that … Walt stuff. I got a little bananas, there for some reason. Maybe, because you got me thinking about him.”

 

                “Of course, that’s understandable.” She smiled warmly, reveling in his acceptance. “If you ever don’t want to discuss something, you just have to say so. I’m just always curious about the two of you and I apologize if that gets tiresome.”

 

                Jesse grinned widely. “Hey, as long as you don’t think we were boning each other, than you can ask me whatever you want.”

 

                “Really? Is that an invitation? I mean, there are still some things I don’t have a clear timeline on.”

 

                “Well, maybe if you don’t have a problem with me asking _you_ questions. I guess it would work.”

 

                She was taken aback by his interest. “Uh, sure. I mean, what would you want to know about me that you don’t already? I can’t imagine any of it is all that revealing.”

 

                “I don’t know about that,” he said, a smirk on his face. “I think there’s a lot about you that needs revealing. You don’t really talk about yourself much, do you?”

 

                “Well, growing up with Marie, I learned to just keep quiet. She sort of did the talking for us.”

 

                “Yeah, again with the putdowns on your sister. That’s kind of your go-to, isn’t it – what do they call it? _De facto?_ Your answer for everything, just bring her up, so you don’t really have to talk about you. Or Walt, he’s your other excuse to hide behind.”

 

                “I guess I don’t really see it that way, but … fine, go ahead and ask me what you want to know.”

 

                “Okay, then. Let me get my cigarettes.”

 

                They ended up on the couch, both smoking while occupying either end. Skyler had her feet in Jesse’s lap, and he massaged them with intensity as his cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. She tried not to think about a glass of Beaujolais clutched in her hand, or peeling Jesse’s pants down for an after-dinner suck, but instead waited quietly for him to begin his interrogation.

 

                “So, your sister said your old man really dug you, even though you two would fight a lot. Is that why you went for Walt? ‘Cause he was like your dad, only not a drunk?”

 

                Skyler scoffed at the idea with a quick laugh. “Hardly. My father was an abusive – well, he was a man-child, really. He expected my mother to dote on him, because he was useless at taking care of himself. It was ridiculous, really. I think it fed into this idea my mother had of him, that he _needed_ her so badly, therefore, he couldn’t help himself when he snapped her wrist and we had to take her to the emergency room at three o’clock in the morning, all because he _loved_ her so damn much.” Her voice dripped with her contempt as she saw her father’s face again, that stupid look of surprise when she had suggested that he was a pig who needed to leave his family and go live in Siberia. Of course, she’d only been twelve, but even then she could see what a deluded man he was. “Or the time he pushed her down the stairs when my mother was still pregnant with Marie.”

 

                “O-kay, that’s cold, but … so far, not seeing a lot of difference.”

 

                The comment shocked her. Walt had been nothing like that at the beginning, and it continued to surprise her how Jesse’s impressions of Walt could vary so much to her own.

 

                “Walt wasn’t violent in the house. I mean, I know that later he was _capable_ of it – he made that very clear to me. But … when we met, he was this docile, caring, intelligent man. I mean, _that’s_ where the similarities really lied. My father and Walt were both brilliant. And I guess I liked that about him. We used to talk all night before we were married. He was just … _fascinating_ , the things he would come up with. He loved history, was always talking about things from the past that I had never heard of before.”

 

                “Like that big gun? The –what was it? _Gustav_ gun from World War Two? It used thermite and was, like, the biggest gun ever made.”

 

                “I don’t remember that one, but sure, that’s just the kind of stuff Walt would bring up, just random notes in history that no one else remembered. But I loved hearing him talk. I suppose …” she drew off her cigarette, seeing the early Walt in his less flattering stages, “he had that arrogance, always. I found it attractive, once upon a time; he had an attitude for success. I thought he would make a good husband. God, a _provider,_ really, that’s what I saw when he asked me to marry him. A good provider.” She laughed dryly.

 

                Jesse held up her foot, dug deep into the arch with his thumbs. “That’s not a bad reason, though. He started to cook because he was worried he’d leave you with nothing after all the hospitals bills. What’s the point of having a family if you can’t take care of them, right? I mean, I got that part, at least.”

 

                “Do me a favor, let’s not go there, alright? I got enough of that excuse to last me a lifetime.”

 

                “Fine, that’s fair. But what happened then? In the marriage? Why’d you have to be such a ballbuster when you met me? I mean, who does that? Goes to yell at their husband’s drug dealer? Talk about being whipped. Makes it kind of hard to save face when your wife is fighting your battles for you.”

 

                “Is that how you see it? I was … _emasculating_ him, somehow? Is this supposed to be my fault?”

 

                Jesse gaped at her, pulling her foot to the side with his hand motions, his cigarette waving in the other. “Yo, I’m not saying that, dial it back. But you got to admit – something was not going so great around then. You don’t overstep your bounds unless you think you got to.”

 

                She sighed longingly. “I guess. No, you’re right. Walt had given up years back. I think it hit him hard when Junio— _Flynn_ was born with CP. I definitely felt like Walt blamed me for that. Like, I must have eaten the wrong food, or my smoking in college harmed the fetus, I don’t know, whatever data he’d read on the subject invariably wound its way back to pointing out something wrong with _me,_ my DNA. He’d make little comments when I was pregnant with Holly, too, about how _we_ decided that I wouldn’t do this, or _we_ wanted me to not work. But it was just his big man pride on full cylinders, at that point.”

 

                “And you? Like, were you disappointed? I mean, he, like, had all this promise, right? And then he kind of pussied out. Walt told me he won this award, one time. It was a big deal, he said. But here he was, teaching chemistry in high school to losers like me who didn’t give a shit. Not exactly the kind of success you were thinking, I’d wager.”

 

                Skyler chuckled. Jesse’s insight was flooring her. “Jesus, where are you getting this from? Did Walt suggest that? Because you’re right, I _was_ disappointed. Someone had to step up and take care of things, and Walt didn’t seem to really … have any drive left. I was angry at him for leaving it on me to figure out how to make everything work. And then when we found out he was sick – I was angry because he made decisions and left me out of it.”

 

                Jesse nodded in understanding, having moved to work on her other foot. “So, would you say … that maybe, that’s why you went in with him? About laundering the money, and all. It wasn’t just that you guys were taking care of the bills, but … it was like, you were doing it together. Like, you were this smooth-ass team, doing it up right, like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.”

 

                She laughed heartily this time. “I beg your pardon? Reese’s? What are you talking about, hon?” But he simply shrugged back at her as he tapped his cigarette in the ashtray. “Okay, you’re absolutely right. That was a major appeal. It was illegal, what we were doing, and it was horrible of me, but I felt that, I did.”

 

                “Yeah, I get that. I can see it, you know? Walt … had that way about him. Sometimes, I’d do stuff for him because … I felt _bad_ for the guy. Pretty stupid, when I think of it now. He was probably playing me the whole time.”

 

                “I wouldn’t say that, Jesse. Walt had his genuine moments.”

 

                He shook himself to loosen up, set her foot in his crotch while he rubbed her other leg. “So, what about before Walt? What about all these bad boys of yours, Skyler?”

 

                She smiled coyly. “What about them?”

 

                He peered at her through squinted eyes. “Hmm. Admit it, Sky, you were a little bit of a slut, weren’t you?”

 

                “Excuse me? Where’d you come up with that shaky assessment? Just because I went out with a guy on a motorcycle?”

 

                “Nah, it’s more about _you._ I got you down, babe. You like it dirty. You tried to clean up with Walt, go live with the straights, but then you had to put up with his dick swagger just like all them other guys that used to try and impress you. Hell, you admitted yourself, that you use sex to control people. You tellin’ me that didn’t start early? To show Daddy you weren’t a pushover like your Mom? Just say it, Sky, you were wild pussy, weren’t you?”

 

                Instead of answering, Skyler ground her foot further in between Jesse’s legs. His hand gripped the top of her ankle and pressed harder, his knees widening as he leaned over to stump out his cigarette.

 

                “What if I was?”

 

                “I’m not judging you. I’m just … you know, I get you, that’s all I’m saying.”

 

                “You think so?” She leaned forward, shifted so she could crawl up Jesse’s body. She palmed the vee of his jeans. “What else do you think you know about me?”

 

                “I think some of those dudes were probably scared of you, and I think you liked that. Some posers trying to play tough, thinking they could get you wet just by wearing a leather jacket, but then you’d wrap your legs around them and they thought they’d won the pussy lottery. You’d show ‘em just what got you off, huh, Skyler? I bet Walt dug that about you.”

 

                But Skyler didn’t want to talk anymore. She swooped down for a kiss, pressing her lips hard enough against his that she wanted to use her teeth, bite him until he bled. She unlatched the first two buttons of his pants, and her fingers kept going, wanting the thickness of him in her mouth again. Jesse let her unbutton them all, watched her as she angled her head down, tugging his jeans along the way.

 

                “You really want to do that, or is this purely for my benefit? Because you seem to have a thing for my cock in your mouth, babe.”

 

                She stopped to catch his gaze. “Are you … I thought you were okay with it? Should I not … you seemed fine last night.”

 

                “Whatever, man, you didn’t really answer my question.”

 

                She creased her forehead in confusion. “What? Do I _want_ to do this? Of course. I want to make you feel good.”

 

                “But are you doing it because you think I want it, or because _you_ want it? I’m just curious. It’s not a trick question or anything.”

 

                “Are you suggesting that I’m still trying to control you because I want to give you a blowjob?”

 

                He frowned. “No. I mean, hey, I got a lot of blowjobs in my time. When I was a kid? That shit rocked, yo. Women went for my dick and I was all, have at it, bitches. I’d watch porn where some chick would take two of ‘em in her mouth, and I thought that was … cool as fuck. But, you know … I don’t exactly see it the same way anymore, you dig? And so I just wonder, what it is that makes it work for you?”

 

                Skyler sat up, started to worry about the trajectory of the conversation. “Jesse, what is it that you really want to know? Do you think I’m somehow humiliated by doing this? Because it’s not the case, and what … whatever you may have gone through, there’s a big difference between doing something because you want to give someone pleasure, and being forced into it.”

 

                “No, I get that. I know that. But what if … you’re not exactly forced? I mean, maybe you got to do one thing to stop something even worse from happening, but it’s still, like, your own volition, you know what I mean? How are you supposed to think about that shit?”

 

                “You think of it as survival, Jesse. You do what you have to do in order to get through it and make it to the end. There’s no shame in that. Nothing you did should be thought of as anything other than you showing strength. They tried to break you, but you didn’t let them.”

 

                “Well … they kinda did.”

 

                “I don’t see it that way.”

 

                Jesse straightened up so that they were eye-to-eye. “Look, I understand what you’re saying, I do. But it’s like, _different_ , what you feel about it, no matter what your brain is saying. I mean, it doesn’t feel good, knowing you were a big whore. And believe me, I used to fuck whores, and I never gave them a second thought, but now … it’s pretty understandable why most of ‘em were fucked up on crystal. It … messes with you, makes you feel really fucking shitty about yourself. Especially when …”

 

                He paused, looked away from her as he struggled. “I mean … there’s just …” Jesse put a hand over his eyes, dipped his head. “It’s just, what do you do … when it’s … _fuck_ … when …” His body popped up, leaned back in his seat as he stared at her wide-eyed. “When there’s a _release._ How do you … I mean, I don’t know what that says about me that isn’t fucked in the head. What the fuck is wrong with me that I would … _Jesus,_ I don’t even know why I brought this up. Just forget it. This is why I don’t get into blowjobs.”

 

                Skyler took hold of his wrist with both hands, brought it to her bosom. “Baby, don’t do this to yourself. There are plenty of cases where women have stated they didn’t initially report a rape because they had an orgasm and felt guilty about it. And sometimes they don’t report it at all. But guess what? Just because your body reacted normally to sexual stimulation, it doesn’t make it _not_ a rape. They’ve done studies on this, Jesse. The physical responses of fear in your body … they can heighten what’s being done to you. It’s got nothing to do with what you wanted or not. My God, I imagine it feels even doubly traumatic, having your body betray you.”

 

                He studied her face closely, his eyes glassy. Jesse’s chest expanded as his breathing grew heavier, but Skyler cupped her hand around his jaw.

 

                “Sweetie – I know that it must be so _overwhelming_ trying to sort these feelings out. This is why I want you to have someone to talk to. Tearing yourself up like this … it’s got to wear you down. And I … Jesse, I know what that feeling can be like, but you have to remember that _you_ were surviving.”

 

                She sat up and released a wavering breath, unsure of how to begin. “When … when Walt came back into the house – this was after he blew up Fring and that old cartel guy – he just moved back without telling me, since it was all decided by him, of course. The fact that I kicked him out and had wanted a divorce – none of that apparently meant anything any longer. He just showed up … and then he was there, in my bed, and I had no way to get him out.”

 

                Jesse’s features darkened, his expression turning grim, but he stayed quiet and let her speak.

 

                “And … you know how delusional Walt had become. He really _believed_ that things would just go back to normal. He had _won,_ whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean, and the rest of us were just meant to adore him and show him our profuse thanks for being such an amazing protector, from saving us from this man that Walt had initiated business with _on his own_. I mean, I told him I was afraid of him, and he hugged me. Told me, he _forgave_ me for giving the money to Ted. Oh, so benevolent Walt.”

 

                “So,” she picked up what was left of her cigarette, took a deep drag, “he’s blissful,  back with his family, and what _I_ felt had no bearing on the situation. Even when … when he got into bed with me. He had this bizarre notion that I was the same old wife that had fucked him in the back seat of the Aztek; that I had just been waiting around to open my legs for him.”

 

                He grabbed her by the waist, slid her back so that she was off of him, and stood up from the couch. Arms encircled his torso, but when Jesse turned to her, he looked disturbed, as if he were afraid to hear the rest of the story. He pointed at her with shaking fingers.

 

                “Hold on, here. Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me? That Walt … holy shit, I can’t even … I mean, is that what you’re _saying_ … here? That _Walt_ … he fucking _raped_ you?” He jettisoned Walt’s name into the air with disgust, tears springing to horrified eyes.

 

                “No, baby, stop. That’s not what I’m saying, oh my God. Was I terrified that he would? Yes, if he had wanted to pursue things, I wouldn’t have had much choice in the matter. But I stopped it before it started by being … _I took care of it,_ Jesse _._ When I knew he wanted sex, I … gave him what he wanted without it … I didn’t want him to touch me. I was sickened by him, but jerking him off, or hell, blowing him was better than the thought of him inside me. I made sure he knew that there was _no_ pleasure in it for me. That he was nothing but a job, and that I was simply his hostage.”

 

                Jesse stared at her in deep concentration for a while, finally turned away, arms crossed, to pace the length of the coffee table. He stopped with his back to her, held up his hands as if he were about to conduct an orchestra, dropped them to the top of his head as he twisted to face her.

 

                “I’m … I’m not really sure that helps, Sky. Like, I’m sorry that you had to go through that, and Walt was a fucking prick for doing it … but it’s not exactly the same, you get me? It doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s not quite … what do you call it … _experiential?”_

“Jesse, I’m not trying to compare the direness of the situations. I’m simply telling you that … it’s _okay_ to do what you needed to do in order to protect yourself. I’m certainly not going to worry about feeling like a whore for giving in to him, but as a woman, it’s expected that one day, there’s going to be an instance with a man that’s over your head, that you can’t get out of. And you submit, or you take control of it, or do whatever, but that’s just _what you do._ I would rather turn an assault into something that’s on my terms, however that needs to play out.”

 

                “Yeah, but … what if those terms make you fucking sick? And then you get off on it anyway? That shit is messed up. And yeah, I don’t really want to think about you having to suck on that fucker’s old man cock, but … you make it sound like, you just handled it, smooth as glass, like it was no sweat off your back. Did … did Walt just take it? Or did he, I don’t know, did he ever, press your head up against the wall so you couldn’t move? Shove his dick so far down your throat that he actually cut off your air supply? Pinched your nose to make sure you were pissing your pants. And you’re kneeling there, fighting to breathe, thinking like, this has got to be the worst fucking joke ever, the fact that you might just _suffocate_ to death from dick. Did he ever do that?”

 

                Skyler could see him getting more agitated the more he talked, wanted to go to him and put her arms around him, but she knew he wouldn’t stand for it in this state.  He went back to his pacing, hunched over as he talked faster in harsh, sped-up breaths.

 

                “And you say it like you made this choice. But … the choices I got were seriously fucked up. They had crazy shit they wanted to do. I mean, you want to know what kind of choices I had to make with these freaks? Lester wanted to shove a glass tube up my ass – one of the volumetric flasks that I used for the cook. And the possibility that it might … _break_ , well, that was a ratings hike for sure. And I had to talk real fast to get them to drop that idea, by promising something else he wanted. So, broken glass inside of me, or getting fisted. That was my choice.” He was almost shouting by then, entreating her with his subjugation, there in the palms of his open hands.

 

                “And I got to tell ya, getting fisted? Feels about as good as it sounds. So, how do I feel _okay_ here? That I had to _beg them_ to do it.” His voice turned breathy and obsequious. “ _Oh, yeah, I want it so bad. I’m such a whore for you, baby. Get that big, fat, side of beef hand you got there and give it to me deep._ ‘Cause I _really, really_ want it.”

 

                His eyes were wild, his face full of hate as he stalked the floor again. “Is that something you could handle, Skyler? You want to try and turn that around on _your terms._ ‘Cause I’d be really interested to see how you make that go down easy.”

 

                And Skyler suddenly saw that had been kidding herself again, thinking that she had anything to offer him.

 

                “Baby, I’m sorry. We should stop talking about this, you’re getting too upset.”

 

                “No, I really want to know. Tell me, what would _you_ do? And you know they made me lick up my own come, right? ‘Cause that’s just the kind of bitch I am. Just a sick little cumbucket, gobbling up cock like I fucking live for it, right?”

 

                She finally stood up and went to him, put her hands to his shoulders as she hushed him, but he brushed her off, stepped away, the terror back in his eyes.

 

                “It’s like they put this disease in me, and now I can’t get it out. I try to. I do. You wanna know what your sister saw, what got her so freaked out? Here, wait.” And he stalked off, his footsteps pounding the floor. When he came back out of his room, he had the sketch book in hand, and as soon as he was close enough, he threw it at her. Skyler jerked back, fumbled the catch so that the pad split open, the lurid penciled tableaus glaring up at her from across the pages. She shut it quickly, pressed it to her breast, already feeling sick from the brief glimpse.

 

                “No, go ahead, I want you to look. You know how many of those I filled up? I used to go through three or four of them in a month, a hundred pages each, front and back, yo! And when there would be a pile of them, I’d set a bonfire out back. Take each page, one by one, and toss it in the flames, hoping that if I could see that shit burn up in front of my eyes, then maybe … maybe I wouldn’t see it every time I tried to close them at night. But it doesn’t work, and I tried _hard._ Instead, I see … I see _me_ , on the rare occasions when I really got to sleep. And I’m doing … I don’t like what I’m doing.”

 

                “What is it you’re doing, Jesse?” He gritted his teeth together, his jaw twisting. “Just tell me. It’s okay.”

 

                “You know, I used to think, if I played it right, I could get the doc to … do what I wanted. Let me _hurt_ him. I figured he’d let me do it, too, if I fucked him good enough. But then I worried, what if I couldn’t stop? What if that shit in me just took over? And it was like what happened with Todd, and I didn’t _think,_ I just did it.”

 

                “You’re afraid you might kill someone?”

 

                “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore. I don’t even know who I am. _What_ I am. I even thought about ... thought about you. What I could get you to do.”

 

                An idea started to form in Skyler’s head, a sudden insistence that Jesse needed to bring these thoughts of his into the light. An opportunity to not only let him cleanse himself of his demons, but hers, as well.

 

                “Why don’t you show me, Jesse? Show me what you want. It’s alright with me if you do. I want you to.”

 

                He reared back in disgust, confounded by her request. “What are you talking about? Are you high? You don’t know what I want to see. You think this is, like, sexy or some shit? What, you want me to break out the leather cuffs again? Maybe this time it’s you I tie down. Doesn’t really sound like your kink, though, does it, _Skyler_?”

 

                “Jesse, listen to me. I’m giving you permission. If that’s what you want, then do it. I want to do this for you.”

 

                “Don’t say that!”

 

                But Skyler supplicated herself before him, got down on her knees and stared into his terrified face.

 

                “Do what you need to, baby.”

 

               

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again. The author would like to take a moment to apologize for the lengthy delay and to those of you who read the first attempt at this chapter, the author appreciates you coming back to try with her again. The author was unhappy with the last version for various reasons, but admits that she was in a dark place and had a hard time moving the story forward. This incarnation is a little closer to the original conception, and all action that was meant to take place in this chapter has now been accommodated. 
> 
> A lot of work did go into the last chapter, however, and so the author is loath to simply throw it away. For those that are curious, I can post the 'alternate' version on my livejournal, if there is any interest.
> 
> Those of you that did read the first posting of Chapter 13, the author would be curious to know if the newer adaption is an improvement. Thanks for dealing with this little experiment. The author appreciates the second chance.
> 
> Also, on the author's livejournal is a post about her thoughts on Skyler's character. She would be delighted to have you join the discussion. http://hollywoodlawn.livejournal.com/69237.html

 

 

 

 

**_Chapter 13_ **

****

               

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Jesse repeated. “This is fucking crazy.”

 

                Skyler saw the terror in his face and thought of Walter back in that hotel room, the desperation he’d exuded as he insisted on keeping Jesse safe. _He’s not some rabid dog._ She could see now what Walt had discovered in Jesse Pinkman, could finally understand what the young man had become for her husband, but her words to Walter hovered near, an echo in her head growing louder each second. _Really … for us … what’s one more?_ A knot inside of her, the one she’d all but forgotten, started to slither and roll, made itself known like a great beast awakening on the depths of the ocean floor.

 

                “Jesse. Look at me. I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. But you need to understand something fundamental about yourself. Let me help you discover it, Jesse. I’m giving you consent, do you understand?”

 

                “Yeah, I got it, but do _you_ understand? ‘Cause I don’t think you do. I – I could hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. It’s just … this isn’t a good road to go down, okay?”

 

                “This doesn’t have to be about giving in. This is about working through something in a safe environment, Jesse. It’s a _process._ You can explore these thoughts you’re having –and we can do it safe and slow, however you want. I’m not asking you to play out those atrocities the men did to you, but let’s find out just what it is that you need to release. Those pictures … the paintings, they’re all coming from a place inside of you that needs to be heard. This is just another way to bring it out into the light, Jesse.”

 

                “What are you talking about? Like, with a safe word and everything?”

 

                “Yes, exactly. Just like you said, you can tie me to the bed, if you want. Do what you need to in order to deal with these … these feelings. I’ll let you know when it’s going too far.”

 

                “What if I can’t stop?”

 

                “You _will_ stop, because I know you, Jesse. I know what kind of man you are. You won’t hurt me. I promise.”

 

                He seemed to ponder the idea for a moment, before vigorously shaking his head in reply. “You got this wrong, Skyler. You don’t know what I see.” His gaze swept over her as she knelt before him. “And honestly? What you’re talking about? That, like … requires _trust._ And we’re kinda on shaky ground where that’s concerned. I’d let Katya go to town on me before I’d try what you’re asking.”

 

                The admission stung but Skyler refused to let it deter her. “Of course you would, Jesse, because being punished and degraded is something you’ve come to expect. But I want you to gain back what was taken from you as much as you do. Why won’t you let me help you?” Her line to Walt grew even louder, almost a shout in her head, but she reached up and took hold of his arm. “Jesse, please.”

 

                “Jesus. Stop, okay? Just … enough already. Get up off the floor.”

 

                Skyler moved swiftly to get in step with him as he walked to his room. “Jesse, you _need_ this. You’re not … _contaminated_ , but you should have the chance to work this out of your system.”

 

                Once they reached the doorway, his expression became weary as he held her at arm’s length. “I’m serious, Skyler. This shit stops now. You’re just trying to manipulate me, here, get me to do what you want. Yo, I’m _done_ with that. Got it? This ain’t gonna work.”

 

               “Why? Because you’re such a monster? That’s what you’re afraid of, right? That once you start this, you’ll lose control? But I’m not Todd, Jesse. We have … we have this connection, you and I. We can use that. And I’m tougher than you think. I can take it.” In fact, she wanted it desperately. This was _her_ punishment, and Jesse being the one to deliver it was a comfort. She’d done enough to him.

 

                He leaned against the doorframe, his eyebrows raised as he mocked her. “Seriously? You can take it? Are you listening to yourself, Sky? What the hell has gotten into you?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion as they studied her. “What have you been up to?”

 

                “What do you mean? I’m just trying to give you an outlet, Jesse.”

 

                “Nah, there’s something up. You’ve been acting funny all day. First with the crazy idea to go see the parade, then with Lana, and now you’ve suddenly got bondage fantasies you’re trying to get me to participate in? Yet you don’t want to listen to reason, huh? Why? Why are _you_ so eager to help? What’s going on in your head, Sky?”

 

                Skyler felt her frustration swell, the need to physically grab Jesse and make him understand what was best for him becoming a pain in her diaphragm as she sucked in a sharp breath. It was like holding on to the talking pillow all over again, the desire to be heard and understood a cacophonous screech throughout her body. She recalled those agonizing months with Walt after they’d learned of his cancer, the disappointment that had burrowed into her with every instance where he’d shut her out. Skyler took hold of Jesse’s wrist and gripped it tight enough to crush bone.

 

                “Jesse, we’re not discussing _my_ fantasies. This is about you. But you need help, Jesse. Please … let me help you.”

 

                Instead of encouragement, Skyler saw his features darken, his mouth twisting to a sneer. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Walt trying to _help_ me by getting me out of his hair, getting me away from the truth – is that what you’re doing? You’re trying to make this about _me_ when all along it’s really about you.”

 

                Skyler stepped back, shaking her head in affront. “No, Jesse, it’s not—” but suddenly he took hold of the sides of her face and brought her close to his, kissing her with ferocity. He pushed her back just as quickly, licking his lips with the analytical air of a chef tasting his sauce.

 

                “You been drinking, Skyler?”

 

                “What? No! Of course not,” she protested, but Jesse was looking towards something in the living room, on the move as soon as he spotted it.

 

                “Or you have you gotten a taste of something? A little pick-me up, maybe? I mean, maybe you’ve been stashing the little liquor bottles from your hotel room and bought a shit ton of breath mints and mouthwash to cover it up. Or maybe you got something this morning, when you ditched me for breakfast. Is that what’s wrong with you?” He lifted her purse from the rocking chair and Skyler’s stomach rolled with her dread.

 

                “No, stop, Jesse, _wait!!”_ She rushed towards him.

                But he was already holding the mouth of it open one-handed while he searched its contents, his expression determined as lipstick and her glasses fell to the floor. “I told you I’d find out, Skyler. You knew the rules.”

 

                She knew instantly when he discovered it, his body went still. When he pulled the gun out, holding it as if it were his own severed heart, the wounded intensity present in his eyes cut through her. In that moment, Skyler understood she had lost him.

 

                “What the _fuck,_ ” he cried.

 

                “Jesse, please, don’t – it’s not what you think.”

 

                “It isn’t? You weren’t planning to _kill me_ when you found me? What else are you gonna do with a gun, Skyler”

 

                “No!” She held out her hands pleadingly, her voice hitching with her desperation to make him believe her. “Jesse, of course not! I was – we were traveling a long distance. Two women and a baby – it’s just – I was bringing it for protection.”

 

                “Protection? But you were coming to find me. That was the whole point, right? This – this is because you think I’m dangerous, too. Just admit it.”

 

                “I don’t think you’re dangerous, Jesse. Not anymore. I was wrong about you, okay?” She saw Walt again, standing in their living room as he gloated over his watch. “Jesse, just listen to me, please. Let me explain this.” The guilt that she held buried within her depths rolled again, exposed its soft underbelly as the carapace broke away.

 

                Jesse waggled the gun toward the front window as he spoke. “I’m all ears, Skyler. Go ahead and explain,” he taunted. “This should be good.”

 

                She struggled to get air in her lungs, her need to convince him making her chest tighten. “Jesse, you – you tried to burn our house down. I was being – cautious. It didn’t mean anything, alright!” She took a few steps forward but Jesse pointed the gun to the floor in front of him in warning. She held her hands up to him again, beseeching him to listen.

 

                “Jesse … _please._ I made a mistake. Just like Walt made a mistake. And, God knows, you’ve had your share of them, too. Maybe it was an error in judgment, but I didn’t know you then, didn’t have any idea how we would find you once we arrived. I mean, Jesus, Marie and I were a _threat_ to you. Perhaps she couldn’t see that, but I certainly did. But I’m sorry that I felt the need to bring it with me. It’s – it’s different now.”

 

                “Yeah? Why, ‘cause you think you know me? You think ‘cause we fucked around and I told you my fucked up stories that you got me all figured out, Skyler? That’s our connection?”

 

                “It’s more than that, Jesse.” She stood wringing her hands, feeling exposed to him, the need to confess so dangerously close. _What’s one more?_ boomed in her head, Walt’s tortured expression while he fought for his young partner all that she could see.

 

                “Walt – he had this watch,” she began, as hot tears rolled on to her cheeks. “He was so proud of that watch, Jesse. He told me – he said that the person who had given it to him had pointed a gun at him, put it right to his forehead, but that person had changed his mind about him and that I would too. I had a feeling then that he might have been talking about you. You tried to kill Walt, you said so yourself. And Saul … I saw him at the carwash, when we had to get the gasoline out of the rug. _You_ did that to his face, didn’t you?”

 

                Jesse glowered at her but wouldn't answer.

 

                “But you see – Walt was half right. Not about how my feelings for him would change, but that you can change your mind about someone whom you were once convinced would bring great harm to you and your family. And my feelings about you did change, Jesse. I don’t – I can’t ever see you willingly hurting someone. Not even Walt. It’s not a part of you.”

 

                A noise of disgust escaped him. “Yeah, tell that to Gale Boetticher.”

 

                “You were trying to save Walt’s life. Because he saved yours.”

 

                Something changed in Jesse as soon as the words left her mouth, standing taller as the rest of his body stiffened while he glared at her as if she’d uttered inanities instead of a plea for reason. Jesse tucked the gun into his back waistband and then he came toward her. She took a step back in surprise before his hand was around her arm and he was tugging her along with him. Skyler had to run to keep up, their path leading back to his bedroom.

 

                “ _Walt._ This had to turn back to Walt, didn’t it? Fucker ruins everything.”

 

                He pulled her in with him as he marched to the bed. As soon as they were close enough, he pushed her in front of him so that she landed with her back on the mattress, her body bouncing a few times with the force.

 

                “Jesse, wait –” Yet he was already kneeling in front of her, his movements unseen as she felt a lump squirming beneath her. She bent up on her elbows to watch as Jesse pulled an item forth from between the mattresses like a birthing of something malignant and evil. He climbed on top of her, straddling her pelvis, and Skyler saw the bowie knife in his hands. A cry escaped her; she saw a memory of her swinging the kitchen knife at Walt – the revulsion she’d felt when it cut through flesh and hit bone now returning to her in waves.

 

                “Jesse, you don’t need to—” she began, but Jesse cut her off, held the hunting knife gripped between both hands with the blade pointing towards her.

 

                “You think you know everything, Skyler, but you don’t even know half of it. You want to know about me and Walt? ‘Cause this is what it all comes down to, doesn’t it? Just a few moments, a single second, and I figured out everything I needed to know about the man.” He pressed a hand to her shoulder and pushed down until she was flat again, the knife hovering over her belly. Skyler’s fear seized in her throat, making her want to gag, but she let her breaths slow, left her eyes open so she could see every detail of Jesse’s face.

 

               “But first, let's talk a little more about the black room and those twisted hillbilly fucks, okay? See, they had a lot of games they liked to play on those nights. Kenny, especially. I don’t even want to think about those poor soldiers in Iraq, with someone like him walking around with a gun, all official. The guy was a fucking sadist.”

 

                Jesse brought the knife closer to her breastbone and she felt cold metal pierce her sweater as he leaned over her.

 

                “I always knew when he was in the mood for a little knifeplay, too. He’d have this certain kind of gleam in his eye. I’d see it as soon as they came for me. ‘Course, they always saved it for last.” Jesse’s mouth twisted into a sickening smile. “They all wanted to have their turn to play, first, ‘cause after the knives came out, I’d be pretty useless after that.”

 

                He took a long breath in, straightened up his back as he brought the tip of the blade to rest between her breasts. Skyler’s heart pounded loud enough that there was a wash in her ears, but her eyes remained fixed on Jesse’s face. His voice chilled her, sounding more removed and hollow the further he went on.

 

               

                “This is how it would go.” He lifted the knife from her sternum and moved it lower, so that it was pointed to her abdomen, right in front of his crotch. He smiled at her again and it was horrific and heartbreaking, the whites of his eyes luminous, while the blue in each iris grew darker.

 

                “They’d handcuff me to this weird lounger. Probably custom made, knowing those freaks. I mean, hey, they already had the handcuffs and the ankle bracelets ready to go, and it was pretty easy to hold me down. Three against one, right? Then Kenny would get on top of me and pick a spot. Couldn’t be over any organs, or any, like, major arteries or anything. Sometimes he had to think about it for a while, really stretch out the moment. Even had people type in suggestions.”

 

                A wet trickle ran down the sides of each temple as Skyler swallowed hard, the chill inside her spreading outward to her limbs.

 

                “But as soon as he found it, then he would go to work. You know, they wouldn’t stick me real quick like you would with a shiv. This was a lot _grander,”_ and he pulled the knife away as his hands opened up like a rainbow, his eyes widening. The blade came back down to its previous spot. Skyler sucked in her breath again, held it tightly in her throat.

 

                “This went nice and _slow._ Like, super-fucking-slow. _Achingly_ slow. I mean, it hurts, at first, when the blade breaks the skin. Definitely worse than a paper cut, but stings about as bad as a needle. But then the blade starts to go … _deeper._ And it’s like getting punched in the bone, like maybe someone is drilling right in there, but the ache … man, that ache is just … _all you feel._ Like it’s your entire body. But it doesn’t ease up. The blade goes deeper still, and you feel … so … _cold._ Heroin cold. Like, a block of fucking ice, but the block is inside of you. The block _is_ you. And it’s the coldest you’ve ever felt.”

 

                “Jesse, please. I don’t want to hear this anymore –”

 

                “He’d … just lean over me, like this. Keep pressing down, watch it go in. And you know, you can’t … control your body, or anything. It just does what it needs to do. It starts shaking so hard … and you can see it – see it like you’re watching a movie and the film starts acting up, all jittery like at the end of the reel.” He tipped his head, let out a breath. A thread of the mundane weaved through his depictions of the brutality. “Sometimes, you’d throw up. Sometimes, you’d piss yourself. And sometimes, if you were really lucky, you’d pass out.”

 

                Jesse laid the knife on its side across her stomach, her breathing lifting it into her view. He pressed his hands to her shoulders and brought his face close enough to hers that their noses almost touched.

 

                “But you know the part that really scared me, Skyler? Every time … every time it happened, I’d think about Walter. That cold – that cold I felt was the ice in that man’s heart. I keep telling you he didn’t give a shit about me, and you know how I know this? Forget about him turning me over to fucking _Nazis_ – and I fucking blame that piece-of-shit for everything that happened to me there. I _know_ because of Jane.” His eyes were glassy as they widened, his voice becoming shakier as he detailed every transgression. “You see, I’ve always known that it was me who killed her. I loved her … _very much_ , but I – I was weak. She had been clean and I – fucked her over by getting her back on drugs. But it almost killed me when I found her like that. You want to believe Walt _cared_ when he put me in rehab –but it’s all bullshit. Walt knew how Jane died … ‘cause he was there.”

 

                A deep dread filled her. “What are you talking about, Jesse? Walt was where?” Her voice was as ghostly as his.

 

                “Right before they dragged me away, he told me what he did.” Despair seemed to drape over him as his body sagged forward, the tears coming as he expounded further. “That night, at my place. After Walt brought us my money. I thought – I thought I would be free of him, once and for all. Me and Jane – I wanted to believe that I could make it work, that maybe I wouldn’t screw up this time. But we still had our kit sitting there, with, you know, that final batch of h ready to go. And when she reached for it, said that this would be the last time … I just wanted her to have one more bit of happiness before … before she was stuck with me.”

 

                Skyler curled her fingers around Jesse’s arm as he held her down with little force. She reached out to touch his face, wiping away the wetness of his cheek, but he wrenched his head away from her as he continued.

 

                “But Walt came back, while we were passed out, I guess. And he was there when she started choking on her own vomit. Those were his final words to me. His parting gift. He said that he watched her die. That he could have saved her, but he didn’t.” Jesse squeezed his eyes shut, choked back a sob. “She meant everything to me, and he let her die,” he whispered. “That’s who Walt was.”

 

                The weight from her torso was suddenly gone, and Skyler heard a clunk as the knife hit the rug. Jesse got off of her, leaving her on the bed as he strode from the room. She heard him moving around in the living room as he gathered things together. It took her several moments to catch her breath, to absorb everything that Jesse had just relayed. She saw a vision of Walt stalking her in their bedroom, the night she’d performed for everyone in the pool. That hateful, twisted promise that he would have her committed before he’d let her take the kids from him becoming the same face that she saw as he informed Jesse that he’d allowed his girlfriend to die. A young woman, barely into adulthood, and Walter had witnessed her life ending without lifting a finger. A sickness washed over her, but then she heard a jingling of keys and her panic forced her to get up.

 

                “Jesse! What are you doing? Where are you—” She ran out of the room in time to see him standing at the door with his coat on rooting through her purse again.

 

                “Where’s your key,” he asked sharply, refusing to even look at her.

 

                Skyler was momentarily confused. “What? Key? I don’t understand. Jesse, this is—”

 

                “Your hotel key! The card, whatever – forget it.”

 

                She watched futilely as he pocketed the card and dropped her purse to the floor with a clatter. “Jesse, what are you planning on doing? Why are you going to my hotel?”

 

                “I’m not staying here with you,” he yelled. “I can’t even spend the half hour in the truck with you to take you into town. I’ll deal with you tomorrow, Skyler.”

 

                “Jesse, this is your hou—” but then the door slammed and he was gone.

 

                When she heard the engine start, she ran forward, grabbed her coat off the hook and swiftly slid her arms into the holes, wrapped it around her tightly before she opened the door again. The truck was moving backwards with a speed that was reckless, snow and dirt dredging up with the spin of the wheels. She watched it weave drunkenly down the path until the lights swung to the right and the truck was turning on to the road. With another peel of snow and rubber, Jesse zoomed off.

 

                Skyler stood on the porch with her bare feet, the cold making her teeth chatter. The familiarity of the moment washed over, made her remember the hard slam of the road on her knees the day she had watched helplessly as Walt drove away with their daughter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Marie?”

 

Skyler’s voice caught as she said her sister’s name. The morning had brought no return of Jesse and she sat on the couch in his robe, her face feeling puffy from the continuous onslaught of weeping throughout the night.

 

“Skyler? What is it? Are you okay?”

 

In an instant, her sobs were renewed. “Marie. I – I think I—I really did it this time.” Her cries hitched in succession, sounding like a horse’s whinny. “I – don’t know what to do,” she confessed as she broke apart once more.

 

“Sweetie, what happened? Slow down, and take a breath. Tell me what you need.”

 

“I need – I …” but she couldn’t seem to finish, could only feel her despair overtake her.

 

“Hon, you’re going to have to calm down. I can’t understand you. Let’s just start with the basics, okay? Are you at the hotel?”

 

“No,” she managed to admit, swallowing another sob.

 

“Okay. So, should I assume this has to do with … our friend, then? Are you at his house?”

 

“Yes.” The bullet answers let her focus and she took a deep breath as her head began to clear.

 

“Is he there, too?”

 

“No.” She exhaled another breath. “He left. Things got … we had a … I couldn’t convince him that I only wanted to help.”

 

“Help? Help him with what, Skyler? Was this a fight? Did you two have an argument? I mean, he didn’t … he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

 

“No. Of – of course not. It wasn’t an argument, exactly. He … he was having a hard time with something and I suggested … I was just trying to give him an outlet, you see. But I pushed him too hard, again. I – I don’t know why I’m like this. Why I can’t stop doing this.”

 

When Marie’s voice came back over the phone, her concern had flattened, become halting. “What _are_ you doing, Skyler? What did you do to him?” There was a long pause as Skyler fished for a lie. “Skyler? What’s going on over there?”

 

She sat very still as she listened to her sister’s questions, her mind tumbling with replies like clothes in a dryer. Her weeping had stopped entirely.

 

“Skyler?” There was another pause. “ _Skyler?_ Are you drunk?”

 

“No, Marie.” Skyler heard herself answer with a sense of detachment, chagrined to hear a second accusation of inebriation in just a handful of hours. “I’m sober. I – I haven’t had a drink for over a week.”

 

“Okay. Well, that’s good. But then … what are you doing out there, Skyler? What have you been … doing with him?”

 

“ _Marie._ ” She wanted to make her understand, but she didn’t know where to start. “It’s … I didn’t mean for it to happen …”

 

There was another long silence and Skyler’s skin felt itchy and hot.

 

“ _Oh my God,”_ Marie whispered into the phone. Skyler heard her suck in a breath on the other end. “Why? Why would you –?” A deep sigh. “Skyler, I think you need to come home now.”

 

“I can’t. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

 

“Why do I get the feeling that he’s not exactly in line with that idea? You need to get out of there, Skyler. You need to leave him alone.”

 

“That wasn’t what you were preaching before, Marie,” she accused, stung by her sister’s tone.

 

“Well, I didn’t know the full extent of his trauma, did I? He needs to be able to find his own way through this. If you want to help him, then do it from home.”

 

“You _still_ don’t know the full extent. There’s nothing I can do for him thousands of miles away.”

 

“Well, he’s not your responsibility, is he? Your responsibility is sitting right here at the breakfast table making a mess with her eggs.”

 

Skyler hung her head at the mention of Holly, wishing that she had her daughter to hold at that moment, letting her old habit of crying into Holly’s hair stir her grief again. It was impossible for her to offer up reasons for her attachment to Jesse when she couldn’t even explain them to herself. It was a span of justifications and affirmations that had managed to lift her up over the last few weeks, and yet the truth had been so clear, the scales falling from her eyes.

 

“Look, Skyler, my hearing is at the end of next week, or I’d hop on a plane to come get you. You need to listen to me and do this.”

 

“But you don’t understand. What _Walt_ did, handing him over … he needs to—”

 

“Walt is _dead_ , Skyler. You don’t need to keep cleaning up after him, making your excuses for him. It’s _over._ Live your own life, for God’s sake. And Jes—our … _whatever,_ he’ll have to live his own life, too.”

 

“I can’t,” she whispered, feeling the magnitude of her misdeeds threaten to swallow her whole.

 

When she hung up with Marie her self-loathing was acute, a mass in her chest covered in thorns. Besides her children, Skyler had two people in this world that she could reach out to and she’d just pissed them both off. The weight of her soul kept dragging her back to the couch as she struggled to stand. She finally made it up and shuffled off to the bathroom.

 

Skyler looked at herself in the mirror over Jesse’s sink. The skin around her eyes was red and swollen, her hair a tangled mess. Skyler looked inside the cabinet out of habit, knowing already that Jesse kept nothing in there that would numb her into insentience.

 

She took a look down by the sink’s pipes, scanned the remnants of the waste bin sitting there. Tissues and a disposable razor lay among the detritus, but there was a peek of brown plastic that made her pulse quicken. Skyler picked up the trash can and stuck her hand to the bottom, pulling out the empty Ativan bottle. Her fingers swirled around the bottom, feeling for tiny pills, but there was only the cap and something slimy. She glanced to the toilet, lifted up the seat to inspect the ring. He had most likely flushed them but there was hope that a stray one was still stuck to the underside of the bowl, clinging in wait. She bent her head in search, only to feel her gorge rise a second later as the disgust with herself reached its nadir. She stood up and went back to the mirror, worked with her make-up to hide her blotchy appearance.

 

By the time she had arranged herself back on the sofa, the light outside was fading, and it hadn’t hit two yet. She pulled up the number to his burner on her phone, thought briefly about leaving him a message before erasing it from the screen. She couldn’t imagine what she might say. Playing with the apps, she scanned the weather forecast and saw that it would be snowing again by late afternoon. This only made her worry more, visions of Jesse careening out onto the highway the night before reminding her that he was in a reckless state of mind.

 

The hours ticked by as she moved from room to room, trying to get a sense of what his struggle had been like in these very spaces. Her meanderings brought her back to Jesse’s bedroom. The knife still lay discarded on the floor. Skyler slid it back into its hiding place, her heart still sick at the way it had been wielded. The thought of Jesse alone in this room while re-living his nightmares filled her with another wave of guilt. Had Walt abandoned Jesse because of her? Jesse’s captivity may have been Walt’s design, but she had helped construct it. She sat kneeling on the floor and stared at the four walls imagining Jesse’s solitude as another cell that he’d been locked into.

 

The letters to Jesse’s brother suddenly called to her. Skyler made her way over and opened the drawer, pulling the bundles free. She slipped the first one out of its stack, peeled back the flap to remove the sheets of yellow lined paper, and began to read.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Skyler was in the middle of making herself some tea when she heard the motor trundling up the driveway. She left the cup on the counter and rushed towards the front door, eager to catch Jesse on the porch before he came inside. She’d gotten half way there when the sound of the engine alerted her that something was off. It wasn’t Jesse’s truck pulling up, but the smooth hum of a newer vehicle. She came to a standstill, shocked into inaction, then crept slowly to the window and peeled back an inch of curtain. A black SUV edged into the space where Jesse’s truck usually parked, snowfall already covering its glossy surface. Not recognizing the Cherokee, she had a moment of calm to contemplate the visitor, but when the passenger door creaked wide, she saw the doctor get out and take a look around. Skyler jerked the drapes closed and backed away from the window, her eyes darting around the room in a panic.

 

She moved to the back of the living room until she was at the entrance to Jesse’s studio. The sound of footsteps crunching over snow could be heard on their way to the porch. When boots plodded across the wood up to the door, her heart started to race. She looked behind her, decided that all she needed to do was hide out until the doctor left. Her plan of action clear, she settled herself by exhaling slowly as her hand circled the doorknob.

 

The first knock made her jump, the rapping insistent and loud. The house held its breath with her in the resounding silence. A few seconds later, there was another pounding on the door.

 

“Hello?” she heard him call. Skyler stood frozen, willing him to leave.

 

Instead, the sudden jingling of keys in a lock made her bolt forward until she was clutching the back of the couch. The fear in her breastbone had taken flight again yet Skyler quashed it instantly. She could handle him, but first she had to pull herself together.

 

The door cracked opened. “Hello?” she heard again before it swung wider, revealing Lacey bent slightly forward as he peered into the house. He straightened once he spotted her then stepped inside.

 

“Oh, you are here.” He pointed behind him. “Any reason you couldn’t answer the door?”

 

“Um, excuse me. But can I ask you why you’re just waltzing into this house without permission?”

 

He seemed surprised by the question. “Jake told you I own this property, right? I come out here to check up on him from time to time.” Lacey glanced about the front room. “He pretty much took care of the repairs for me. Saved me quite a bit of money, actually.”

 

Skyler was bewildered by his casual tone, as if he’d expected to find her here all along. She left her sentry behind the sofa and came forward.

 

“I don’t understand. Jake’s not here, obviously. What do you – what can I do for you?”

 

Lacey stretched his open palms to her in query. “ _Hannah_ , right? I couldn’t remember your sister’s name, but I remembered you. Although,” a finger danced towards her hair, “nice ‘do, I have to say. I almost didn’t recognize you when I saw you in town the other day. What made you change your appearance?”

 

Skyler’s flesh turned suddenly clammy. “I – I don’t know what you …” It was silly to play innocent she quickly realized. “It was just a whim. I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Lacey, but I don’t have any idea why you’re here. I’d like you to explain now, if you don’t mind.”

 

He moved to the stuffed chair. “Can I sit down first, Hannah? It would be lovely if we both sat, actually. I’d like to talk to you.”

 

“Talk … to _me_?” Lacey stood waiting for her until Skyler begrudgingly took a seat. “How did you – this is very confusing. How did you know to find me here?”

 

But Lacey was unruffled by her discomfiture. “Well, you weren’t at your hotel. I know you’ve been spending time with Jake. He’s been rather … secretive about you. And then today, I knew something was going on after I got the call.”

 

Her concern flooded through her. “Call? What call? Is he all right?”

 

“Oh, yes, Jake’s fine, I expect. I haven’t spoken to him today, but his boss called me. Stan Lowell is a good friend of mine. He was a bit upset. Seems that Jake’s not only turned down the offer of an apprenticeship, but he’s put in his notice. Do you know why he would do such a thing?”

 

Skyler was stunned. She hadn’t expected Jesse to work this quickly, and her offer to him in the restaurant came back to haunt her. “I have no idea. I’m not – we don’t know each other that well.”

 

The doctor’s eyes grew wider behind his glasses. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

 

“Why’s that? We – we only just met.”

 

“Right. After he rescued you on the side of the road,” he said smugly.

 

“How did you know what hotel I was at? Are you spying on me, Doctor?”

 

“Well, there was the fact that I saw you both in the parking lot there. Less than an hour after we were introduced, as a matter of fact. You work quickly, don’t you? If, as you say, that was, indeed, the first time you met Jake and not just a cover story.”

 

She willed her heart to slow down its thumping, sure that the doctor could hear it from where he sat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I lie about something like that?” An image came to her suddenly, of a young man walking by them in the hotel’s hallway, his hands tucked in a pea coat just like Jesse’s. “What were you doing at that hotel to begin with? A late afternoon rendezvous with a young man? How often have you wished that person could have been Jake?”

 

It was Lacey’s turn to look troubled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I think you know, Dr. Lacey. I’ve seen you around town, too.” She shrugged a shoulder in mock apathy. “Particularly the way you look at Jake. Perhaps this isn’t about him leaving his job, which isn’t any of your business to begin with. Maybe you’re just here out of jealousy.”

 

Lacey stood up abruptly. “That’s nonsense. Stop casting aspersions to deflect my questions. I would never – you know nothing about me or my relationship with Jake.”

 

“Do you deny that you care about him?”

 

“Of course I care about him! Why do you think I’m here? He needs … Jake is a special case. He needs protection. And I –”

 

“You’re his designated protector? Is that it?” Skyler had a flash of Walt’s pained face as she demanded he _deal_ with Jesse.

 

Lacey dropped back into his seat. “This isn’t about me. I want to know why Jake is doing something so reckless. Is he planning on leaving? Are you taking him somewhere?”

 

The question stirred something in her. “Are you paranoid? I just finished telling you, we don’t … know each other that well. I don’t know why Jake gave notice, and I don’t know what he’s planning.”

 

“Why don’t I believe you?”

 

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t know! What would you like me to say?”

 

He stood up again, started walking around his chair with shoulders and head bent forward in heavy concentration.

 

“See, when we met that day … when you told me your name … something clicked. I’d heard it before. I mean, Lambert, that’s not exactly common, is it? But it just hung there in my head like a flashing sign. And then when I saw you two together later … looking rather _close,_ that name came back again.” He turned to watch her reaction. “When I got home the first thing I did was to look you up in a search engine. Thought maybe I’d seen some of your photographs and that’s all it was. But … I couldn’t find anything. It took a few days for it to hit me. I was entering the wrong name.”

 

The creeping flesh returned while a tight fist formed in her stomach, but Skyler sat motionless as she listened to the doctor continue his reveal.

 

He wagged a finger at her with a sad smile. “See, it was the face that I finally recognized. I’d read all of the news pieces after the story broke. Followed it for a few weeks, in fact. It was just such a fascinating deception. A _teacher …_ producing and selling methamphetamine. All started, apparently, because he was dying of cancer. The mind boggles.” He crossed his arms as he studied her closely. “There were photos of you leaving the DEA offices. Your lawyer looked like he’d just hit the legal drinking age the week before.”

 

Skyler recalled her words to the league of agents and prosecutors, the truth of it applying to her current situation quite ably. _I understand I’m in terrible trouble._ When she spoke aloud, her voice was steely.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Want. What are you trying to gain? You want money? I can get it for you. Is that what this is? Some sort of blackmail?”

 

Lacey sat down again, his face earnest. “ _No._ No, of course not.”

 

“Are you … are you going to have him arrested?” she cried, her panic back at full force.

 

“Who? Jake? Absolutely not. I’m not here for that, Hannah. Or … Skyler. Whatever you call yourself. But … you knew him before you came here, didn’t you?”

 

“I thought you said you followed the story?”

 

“Yes, I did. And obviously … there was that bit of information about your husband’s _associate_ … how he’s been missing since those two cops were killed. But when I realized who you were – it got me to wondering. Why you and your sister were here. The two of you had sought out Jake on purpose. You were trying to find … this Jesse Pinkman. But why? What were you after?”

 

“I’m not saying another word until you tell me what’s going on here. What do you intend to do with … with Jesse? If you’ve been aware of his real identity this entire time, why haven’t you run to your good friend, the sheriff? What’s your angle?” The reminder that her gun was now with Jesse taunted her, having lost her one effective method of defense. The fact that he was even in possession of a firearm put him in great danger, she realized, and the room seemed to tilt for a moment as the sight of Jesse in a stand-off with police invaded her mind.

 

“I told you. I’m trying to protect Jake. Are you here to hurt him?”

 

“No,” she told him emphatically, although it had appeared she’d done just that. “I’m … I want to protect him, too. We didn’t know everything, though. There were details of the case … and about my husband … my brother-in-law … that only Jake – Jesse could answer. That’s all we were looking for.” She was desperate for a cigarette and glanced to her purse before she took in Lacey’s worried countenance. “How do I know I can trust you not to turn Jesse in?”

 

“Well, a minute ago you were accusing me of being jealous, as if my presence here was all a grand design to get him into my bed. You do know I’m his doctor, correct?”

 

“Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“So, that means there are certain things that I know about Jake … Jesse, which might preclude me from wanting to have him put into a maximum security prison for the time being. I – I feel responsible for him. That young man has suffered enough. I just want to make sure he’s going to be all right.”

 

“Don’t you have a moral and ethical responsibility to hand over a wanted fugitive?” she argued, still unsure of his loyalty.

 

“I do. But I also have a moral and ethical responsibility to my patient. He needs my help.”

 

“Dr. Lacey, do you even know what crimes he’s being accused of? It’s not just the drug operation he ran with my husband. He’s guilty of murder.”

 

Lacey nodded once. “Yes. I’m aware of that. I believe one was a rival methamphetamine producer and then there was a possible second victim – and I hesitate to use the term – found strangled at the desert site where all of those neo-Nazi criminals were shot down, along with your husband. A victim that I’m inclined to believe was actually one of Jake’s torturers.”

 

The doctor leveled a gaze at her full of heavy import. “Look – we’re adults here. I can only surmise that if you’ve … been sleeping with him, as this arrangement suggests, then you would have been privy to the … degrees of distress on his person. The first time he came in for a visit, I was a little taken aback, I’ll be honest. The list of symptoms and injuries I’ve had to treat him for … he’s suffered as much damage as returning soldiers held captive by al-Qaeda.” He looked around the room as though searching for evidence of Jesse’s mistreatment. “I did some time in the Sudan during a stint with Amnesty. I know what torture does to people.”

 

Skyler leaned on her elbows across her lap as she tilted forward. “Well, I know what happened at that compound, Doctor. And it’s worse than whatever you imagined it to be. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep him safe. Do we understand each other?”

 

He took off his glasses and rubbed them with a handkerchief from his pocket, avoided looking at her as he answered. “Your husband died from a gunshot wound. Was that … was that Jake, too? Was he responsible?”

 

“No. Walt did that to himself.”

 

Lacey’s head shot up. “Okay. So … what was your … how did you end up here with Jake – _Jesse_ – after your sister and her daughter left? Was this,” he looked away in embarrassment. “Did you plan for this? To seduce him?”

 

She crossed her arms with a throaty laugh. “Seduce him? No, that certainly wasn’t my intention. I’d say it was more like the other way around. I think I had been hoping that … that he was a bad guy. That he had been the one who’d led Walt down this path to begin with, the cause of all my heartache. And that maybe I’d be able to convince my sister that we s _hould_ hand him over to authorities. But … that’s not what happened, and that’s not what we found. I think Jesse has a singular talent for drawing people in. All of these people who want to protect him – from himself, mostly, but,” she shrugged again. “My husband did terrible things to him, Dr. Lacey, before those thugs ever got their hands on him. I feel like I – I need to make amends to Jesse.”

 

The doctor shook his head sadly. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before, when I had him over to my house. I even saw the early mug shots of … Pinkman. I mean, the prison story? I never fully bought that. Perhaps I didn’t want to see the truth. Perhaps I thought that the knowing would make it impossible to ever look Harry in the eye again, but …” he caught her gaze. “I can look at him just fine. What I can’t do is stand idly by while Jake ruins whatever good chances he has here.”

 

“He doesn’t have any documentation other than a fake driver’s license under a made-up name,” she said. “I have no idea what he’s using for a social security number, but going into a program for accreditation is impossible for him. I – I think he’s just running scared. My God, you’ve seen his back – he won’t survive prison unless he’s in isolation, and I don’t think Jesse can handle years in a tiny room with no one to talk to. It would be like denying him food and water.”

 

“And I would tend to agree. So – what are our options, here?”

 

“I think I have an idea, Dr. Lacey. But I’ll need your help.”

 

“Of course. But you have to do me a favor, first,” he said with another forlorn smile.

 

“If you’ll do one for me, sure.” Skyler waited for the demands to come as her disappointment spiked. This is where the negotiations would start.

 

“It’s Stephen. I’d like it if you would call me Stephen.”

 

“Okay, Stephen. Do you love him?”

 

A shock stole over his face before his features settled back to his placid exterior. “Excuse me?”

 

“Are you in love with him? It’s a simple question, Stephen.”

 

“I could ask the same of you.”

 

Skyler took a deep breath as she contemplated her answer. “I care for him very deeply,” she said, feeling another melancholy sweep through her heart.

 

“Well, then, I guess we’re both in agreement.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had barely been a handful of minutes from the time the doctor had left when she heard the telltale motoring sound that signaled Jesse’s arrival. She left the studio and ran to the front door, flinging it open this time as she watched him exit his truck. He looked worn through as he strode towards her, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed while the snow fell heavily around them. When he met her in the doorway, he lifted his face to look at her and Skyler saw his remorse hanging there like a body from a noose. He wrapped his arms around her middle, nestled his head to her shoulder, and Skyler folded her arms around him, squeezed him closer as if she could bury him inside of her to keep him safe.

 

“I was so worried,” she whispered. “Thank God you’re alright.”

 

She took his hand and pulled him into the house, shutting the door quickly to bar them from the cold and the thickening storm. Jesse stood at the threshold of the living room, seemingly uninspired to enter. Tugging at his coat, Skyler aided him in removing it, pulling off his beanie and running a hand over his damp hair to smooth it down. At her touch, Jesse turned back for another embrace and Skyler felt her need to console him sharpen. She put a caressing hand to the back of his neck. “Sweetie, what is it? What’s happened?”

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her collarbone. She put both hands to either side of his head and tilted it back until she could lock eyes with him.

 

“Why are you sorry? _I’m_ the one who pushed you, Jesse. I was – I was interfering again, and I’m deeply regretful. Please forgive me.”

 

Jesse shook his head insistently as she held him; closed his eyes to her as he moaned his disagreement. “ _Nonono, I’m what’s wrong._ I shouldn’t have done that to you. I – I was trying to … fuck, I don’t even know.” He grabbed her hands to pull them free, walked away from her to lean on the back of his dowdy, overstuffed chair. “I was trying to prove this bullshit idea, like you hadn’t suffered _enough,_ Jesus. Like it’s some contest between us. I mean, how fucked up is that?” He turned to face her. “Walt fucked you over, same as me. And I keep trying to make you … I don’t know, like _admit_ that you were as bad as him. When really, I just wanted to believe you were like me.” His features softened, his eyes glistening as he implored her. “But you’re _not._ You’ve been trying to help me all this time, and I just keep shitting on you. I’m the asshole. I’m … I’m so sorry for what I did. I was trying to scare you, but that was a shitty thing to do, and you didn’t deserve that. What Walt did, making you live with him like that, like it was all normal, sleeping in your bed … it makes me sick. If I had known, I would have done … _something._ But I was stupid … and _weak._ No, Skyler, I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness. Even though I don’t deserve it.”

 

Instead of being comforted, Skyler grew alarmed at his turnaround. She wondered what had happened once he’d left her, if he had even stayed in her hotel room. His need for self-punishment brushed against her guilt until she felt dizzy for a brief second.

 

“Jesse, where did you go last night?”

 

“I stayed in your room. Watched a lot of tv to help me calm down.” He looked away from her shamefully. “I emptied one of the bottles out of that fridge. Went to one of the bars and got a few more drinks. I think it’s safe to say I passed my limit.”

 

“Oh, God, Jesse, I’m so sorry. That was … please, listen to me. Let’s start over, okay? Sit down, talk to me, Jesse. We can work this out.”

 

He glanced at her with uneasiness. “We can?”

 

“Yes. Tell me what happened today. Was … was everything okay at work?”

 

Exhaustion seemed to deflate him, and his body crumpled against the chair as he released a wounded sigh. “Shit. I gotta go, Skyler.”

 

“What do you mean? Go where? You just got here.”

 

“I gotta _go,_ ” he repeated, raising his voice. “You were right. I’m too known here. I let too many people get close. It’s – it’s time for me to leave.”

 

“What? You mean leave here? No, Jesse, you can’t. This place is your best opportunity to stay hidden. You start moving, you might get picked up. For Christ’s sake, Jesse, the local police _love_ you. You have – there are people who are invested in you. I don’t think you’ve really thought this through.”

 

“But I have. I spent all night thinking about it. I should have left a while back, but I got comfortable. It’s bullshit. I can’t have people thinking I’m this good person, when I’m not. I hate lying to everybody.”

 

She grabbed his hand tightly, dragged him to sit on the couch with her. “Jesse, I understand that, I do. And I know how hard this has been on you, but please, just wait before you do anything rash. We can figure this out. I told you I can help you, Jesse.”

 

“You still want to help me? Even after last night?”

 

The back of her hand caressed his cheek. “Of course I do.”

 

Suddenly, Jesse was holding on to her wrists, pinning them to his chest. “Would you go with me?” he asked breathlessly.

 

“What? What are you talking about?”

 

“Go away from here. Like, we could leave the country, even. You and me and Holly. I promise, I would take good care of you both. Whatever you need. I—I have some money saved. It won’t get us far, but … with your contact, we could, you know, get some passports. Maybe go to Mexico. Or Australia. I – I would be … whatever you want me to be. You wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else judging you. We could … we could be our own …” His head dipped and Skyler could see his shoulders begin to shake. “Just … whatever you want, Skyler,” he said, his emotions thick in his throat.

 

“Sweetheart, look at me. We can’t … you know I can’t do that, Jesse.”

 

He stared through her, his vulnerability alight in his face. “Do you still want me?”

 

“Yes, I do. But that doesn’t mean I can leave with you. My daughter … my _son,_ Jesse, I can’t—”

 

Jesse stood up in front of her with urgency. He took hold of the hem on his sweater and dragged it over his head before she could finish her sentence. Skyler sat dumbfounded as Jesse proceeded to strip, dropping each particle of clothing to the floor until he wore nothing at all.

 

“I’ll let you do whatever you want. Do you understand? You can hurt me, if you need to, I don’t care. You – you’ve been _good_ for me to be around, Skyler. You talk to me straight, even when it feels like a kick in the balls. But I need that. All of the things I’ve fought you on – you were right. I needed to talk that shit out. I needed to come to terms with what I did, what Walt did. You’re the only person I know who … who gets what it was like _being around him._ If you want to … to use me, I don’t mind, anymore. As long as you want me.” He dropped to his knees before her and took hold of her hands again. “Just tell me what you want me to do, Skyler.”

 

The beast rolled in her belly again, slithered up through her esophagus until it sat in her throat waiting to speak. Skyler felt the air to her lungs cut off, opened her mouth to suck in oxygen.

 

“Jesse,” she called in a strangled hiss. “It was me. I took the photograph.”

 

He shook his head in distraction. “What? What photograph?”

 

“The one of Andrea and her son. I stole it out of your drawer the first night I stayed in your room. I took it because I needed your fingerprints. I didn’t even have a plan, I just did it. I thought I could use the proof of your identity and your whereabouts as a bargaining chip to keep my sister out of jail. That’s why I came here. I – I tried to talk Marie into turning you in but she refused.”

 

Jesse didn’t move for a long while, but his eyes never left hers. “But … you changed your mind, right?” he finally asked with resolve. “I mean, I can understand why you would do that. You didn’t owe me any–”

 

“My God, Jesse. You don’t understand. I’m _not_ good for you. I’m nothing but poison. I’ve … taken advantage of you. I pushed you into things you weren’t ready for.”

 

“But no, I told you, it was good. I – I needed –”

 

“Jesse, no.” Her voice grew shrill as the truth bubbled up, Walt’s pleading arguments filling her head, a vision of his horrified face hovering behind Jesse’s shoulder. “You need to listen to me. You refuse to believe that Walt cared about you, and I’m not disputing that he didn’t do horrible things to you and caused you great pain, but he did horrible things to all of us, everyone he loved. I _saw_ it, Jesse. He _pleaded_ with me. Insisted that you were … that you weren’t a danger to anyone other than yourself. He didn’t want to hurt you, Jesse, you have to believe that. He wanted to _talk_ to you, to explain, because … because he needed you. Loved you, even – it was there in his eyes. But it was … it was _me._ I’m the one who told him.”

 

Jesse had gripped her knees until his fingers turned white. “Told him what?”

 

Skyler sucked in another sharp breath, the tears starting to fall. “To kill you. I told him to kill you.” A deep ache swelled in her chest. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”

 

His expression didn’t change but something flickered off behind Jesse’s eyes. He didn’t move, didn’t even appear to be breathing, and Skyler reached out to touch him, desperate for him to react. Jesse flinched from her touch, stood up calmly and started to walk towards the door.

 

“Jesse? Will you talk to me? Jesse, say something. What – what are you doing? Jesse!”

 

He’d opened the door and disappeared to the front porch, leaving his coat on its hook and his shoes behind. Skyler bolted out of her seat, ran to stop him, but by the time she reached the entrance she could see he was already in front of the truck. She watched in horror as he darted to his right, towards the back of the house, the only light left coming from the porch lamp. The snow was coming down hard but the wind had also arrived, whipping the snow into flurries like a flock of birds pivoting in flight.

 

“Jesse!” she screamed, but it only had the effect of making him run faster, and in the next second he was gone. “Stop, Jesse!” she called again, running forward, but then she made herself stop and turn around, ran back into the house.

 

Skyler grabbed her coat, punching her arms through the holes at the same time as she was trying to stuff her feet into her boots. As soon as they were on, she ran to the couch to grab the throw, took one glance at it then tossed it back down as she ran for the bedroom. The comforter was pulled down in triple folds at the end of Jesse’s bed and Skyler grabbed a corner, rolling it into a haphazard ball in her arms.

 

When she made it to the truck she looked to her right and could see nothing in front of her, the darkness and snow making it difficult to determine any shapes up ahead. “Jesse!” Skyler had a sudden flash in her head of the numbers on Jesse’s refrigerator and dropped the blanket to the ground, running back to the house as fast as she could move. She ran breathlessly into the kitchen, her boots sliding on the tile until she almost fell, but she grabbed the handle of the fridge and pulled herself forward, her sight flitting over each little paper until she found the one she needed.

 

Back in the living room, she grabbed the handles of her purse, flipped it over so that everything dropped to the floor in a jumble. She reached for her phone and punched the numbers in while she ran back outside, the door still open.

 

“I need you here!” she yelled into the speaker as the soon as she heard the voice. “Turn around now! Help me! Please. He needs us.” Skyler’s breaths dragged out of her like glass shards as she reached the blanket where she’d left it, stuffed it into her arms again, and started to run forward with the hope that Jesse would follow the path from the day before. The voice on the other end was saying something, but she could no longer make out anything other than the pounding in her ears.

 

“Hurry! I can’t see him. I have to move,” she screamed while she ran, the words coming from her in a staccato purge. She was close enough to trees that a light seemed to shine through them, opening up a passageway like a landing strip. Skyler thought she saw something moving at the end of it.

 

“Jesse! Stop! You don’t have any clothes!” she shouted, as if the absurd observation hadn’t already occurred to him. She held the phone to her chest tightly as she started to run again, willing her body to move faster even with the cumbersome weight of the bundled cloth in her arms. When she got to the end of the row, a space opened up and her eyes darted in every direction around her. Something was moving at her right and Skyler broke into a run again. “Jesse?”

 

The snow seemed to come down harder every minute that went by with her unable to find him. Skyler fell forward, her foot catching on the corner of the blanket that dragged on the ground. Landing with her face in the snow, Skyler cried out in frustration as she pulled herself up. Suddenly, she saw a shape a dozen feet in front of her. The wind whistled around her but as the snow zagged a stream away from her face, she saw him, a flash of the dark lines of his back before her.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, what are you doing?” She struggled to stand up again, her strength coming in a surge. She plodded over to where he sat, unmoving as the snow piled around him.

 

“Jesse,” she breathed once she touched his shoulder. His arms were clasped tightly around his knees, his legs bent and his nose resting on their tops. His body shivered with the cold, but Jesse sat dormant, unresponsive. Skyler didn’t wait, but shook out the comforter and wrapped it around him.

 

“Jesse, you have to move. You’ll freeze. Please, sweetie, help me.” But Jesse stayed still. She grabbed his neck and twisted him to her, but it was as before, his face blank and his eyes unseeing.

 

“Jake? Baby, look at me. You need to come out of this. I need to keep you warm. Jake!” She slapped him hard when he didn’t respond, but Jesse’s head simply lolled to one side with no reaction. Skyler raised her hand to strike him again, but she heard the faraway buzz of her phone and stuffed her fist in her pocket.

 

“Hello? Are you here yet?” She hadn’t even looked at the number, only prayed that it was him.

 

“Hannah? I’m almost there. I’m just coming up to the pass. I’ll be there in minutes. Is there something I can help you with before I get there? Is it Jake?”

 

“I’m with him. He needs medical attention. He’s so cold.”

 

“Hannah, where are you?” Lacey shouted from the phone, but Skyler had dropped it to her lap as she pulled Jesse closer, trying to wrap her body around him.

 

“Just start running straight ahead as soon as he you get out of your car,” she said aloud. “And run quickly.”

 

“Hannah, can you send me your coordinates? I’ve got my bag in the car.” His voice became muffled as she tucked the blanket underneath Jesse, the phone falling into the snow.

 

“I’ve got you, baby,” she whispered, curling her limbs around him.

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

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**_Chapter 14_ **

****

****

                _“Jesse. Son, look at me.”_

_Jesse doesn’t want to do it, but something about the tone of Walt’s voice makes him turn his head. There’s an insistent thud keeping time in his hands and feet; they feel gigantic and swaddled in something thick, making it difficult for him to move. He opens his eyes carefully, but the light is dim, not blinding at all. He’s still able to make out Walt sitting in front of him, however._

_“I don’t do what you want, anymore, remember?” he tells Walt listlessly, lacking any heat. Walt appears saddened by the change._

_“You know, I never wanted to hurt you, Jesse. But so often, you just wouldn’t listen to reason.”_

_“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Walt.” Jesse closes his eyes again. It hurts to look at him._

_“I’m not trying to excuse my behavior, Jesse. I’m just trying to explain. It was my fault, what happened, I know that now. I should have let you go, but – I couldn’t do it. I cared too much. And then you betrayed me and all I could think about was how much I wanted to hurt you back. I said things to you in anger, Jesse, but I didn’t mean them.”_

_“Liar,” Jesse grunts. “Stop talking. I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit. You killed her. You can’t take that back.”_

_“I wish I could, son.”_

_“GO… away,” he tells his mentor, his curse._

_“Jesse. You need to let go of me, too. Move forward with your life, son. It wasn’t Skyler who made me sign your death warrant, Jesse. That was all my decision. Don’t blame her for my actions. She didn’t know you. She was simply scared for our kids.”_

_“I’m serious, Walt. Shut up. The both of you just keep cutting away at me. I don’t have anything left to give either of you. Just leave me alone, old man.”_

_“Son, you don’t have to give anything up. You’re so close, Jesse. And strong … stronger than I ever was. I couldn’t see it before, but I see it now. And now you need to let go.”_

_“Let go of what?”_

_“All of it. The anger and the guilt and the memories, all of the things you can’t go back and change. Just let it all go.”_

_“I can’t, you asshole. You would say something that lame. It’s too fucking huge. If I let go of it, I’ll simply disappear. It’s the only thing I got left.”_

_“No, Jesse, that’s not true. Look around you.”_

_“Look at what? What am I supposed to see, Walter?”_

“Jesse? Jesse, can you hear me?”

 

He heard her voice seep into his head, like honey drizzling in his ear. Jesse could feel the lights on his eyelids but he was hesitant to open them just yet, afraid that Walt might still be in the room somewhere, a ghost in the shadows demanding relevance. Jesse took a deep breath then let the image of Walt fade away with the exhale.

 

One eye tweaked open. Skyler’s worried face filled his sight, her eyebrows knitted together as she bent forward to inspect him. The beeping of a monitor grew louder in the room.

 

“Hon, are you okay? Can you feel your hands?”

 

He could, but the twin pulses were still beating, like dual hearts in his palms.

 

“ _Whaaas_ _wronnngwith’m,_ ” he slurred. Jesse turned on his side, a crinkling sound accompanying the movement.

 

“Be careful. Don’t move around, sweetie. You’re wrapped in a thermal blanket and you need to stay underneath it.”

 

“What happened?” he asked, attempting to summon the last thoughts he’d had before losing consciousness. Skyler had been talking about Walt. He remembered there was snow. And cold. Everything had felt so cold. “Why am I in the hospital?” He never liked waking up in hospitals.

 

“Your body is suffering from hypothermia. Luckily, you only have a mild case of frostbite on your extremities. I got to you as soon as I could. Why did you run, baby?”

 

“I ran? Where?” He rolled to his back as a vision loomed, a pathway in front of him all in white. There was something cool on his feet suppressing the burning sensation along his skin. He tried to rub them together to alleviate the itching but there was too much bandaging between them to attain any satisfaction.

 

“You disappeared into the woods behind your house. You took off, Jes –” she glanced quickly behind her before she resumed in a low voice. “—Jesse. You stripped off your clothes, remember, honey? And then you ran outside before I could stop you. What on earth were you thinking? You could have frozen to death if Stephen hadn’t been close by. I wouldn’t have been able to carry you back.”

 

“Stephen? Doc, you mean? Why was he around? “

 

“It doesn’t matter, Jesse. I’m just happy that he was. I – I thought you were lost to me … you went into another state, again. Do you recall any of it?”

 

“I’m not sure. I remember … the Discovery Channel.”

 

Skyler tipped her head to her shoulder with a frown and a shake of her curls. “I’m sorry?”

 

“The Discovery Channel. I haven’t seen it, in like, forever. I was watching it … in your hotel room. They had a show about whales. They kept playing their songs, like, the way they communicate with each other, over the narration. I remember thinking it was so sad and … just mournful. I could _feel_ those songs, you know? It was like those whales were talking to me.”

 

And in those soulful pitches of sound Jesse had heard Skyler calling him. He had heard everything she had gone through with Walter in those notes and his heart felt arrested with shame. He had heard Andrea and Jane calling him, too. And Mike. And Gale. After a while, he’d buried his head under a pillow to drown them out, but he wouldn’t shut off the television to those haunting echoes.

 

“What made you … why did you change your mind about me? When you came back?” Skyler asked.

 

Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. He knew that it had been a stupid idea to think that Skyler would want to be with him, would bring her daughter with them on a flight from the law, but he had felt compelled to ask. He had needed to hear the words, that Skyler didn’t love him. “I don’t know. I just … I was being unfair to you. I get that. And I just wanted … it felt good to have someone care that much, even if it was painful at the same time. Does that make any sense?”

 

“Not really.” There was a pause, but Jesse sensed her wanting to say something else, and he peeked at her through the slit of his eyelids. “I do care, Jesse. I care very much,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter … what happened before, the things I said … they don’t matter. I didn’t know … you were right. I didn’t know anything. But I understand now.”

 

“Look, I would have probably wanted to kill me, too. I can be a major pain in the ass.” Behind closed eyes, Jesse could see Skyler’s face while she’d informed him of what she had asked Walter to do. It had been just like hearing Walt tell him about Jane all over again. But Jesse supposed that even he could understand why Walt had felt it necessary to do nothing, had wanted Jane out of the way. ( _He said, never give up on family. And I didn’t. I took his advice.)_ It was sickening to think that letting her die may have been an act to save Jesse from his own overdose, but Jesse knew that such a result would have been likely. He’d even admitted as much to Walt. _We are who we are, Mister White. You know, two junkies with a duffel bag full of cash? Like you said, we both would have been dead within the week._ He still missed her like crazy, though. He carried so many holes in his heart, yet the one for Jane had a special kind of ache, not quite cauterized but pumping fresh blood every once in a while.

 

 _Jesse, I’m very sorry about Jane._ He had tried to assign different sentiments behind those words every time he thought of them – Walter so whacked out from the sleeping pills but still sounding so remorseful, juxtaposed to the practically gleeful malice from his speech in the desert. How was Jesse to believe one over the other when they were both still so clear in his head?

“It was a heinous thing for me to suggest to Walter. You didn’t deserve that. I was scared, and a coward. I’m so, so sorry, Jesse. I hope you can believe me one day.”

 

But Jesse was still lost in that afternoon in the lab, Walter’s words flowing while Jesse watched him stumble around the equipment. He stared at Skyler’s hand resting atop his tattoo and could see Walt’s grip further up by his elbow.

 

“You know, he had wanted to die before it ever got to the way things ended,” he said.

 

Skyler was making a tentative effort to clasp hold of his bandaged hand, but she looked up sharply when he spoke. “What? Walt did?”

 

“Yeah.” Jesse made a grunting noise as he moved to turn on his side again, wanting eye contact. “He said he had realized the perfect moment for it to happen, but that he had missed his chance. That if he had died in that moment, you guys would have remembered him better. You know, he’d lived too long. He said that there had to exist a way to put the words in the right order to make you understand why he did it, but that he hadn’t been able to figure it out.”

 

Skyler put a warm hand on his chest. “When did he tell you this, Jesse?”

 

“It was when we were still working for Gus. After your brother-in-law kicked my ass. Shit was just really tense at the lab. Walt was acting really crazy. And … I don’t know. I thought maybe his cancer had come back, you know? But he convinced me it was still in remission. He was so … messed up that night. Just really _sad_.” It had gotten to Jesse, seeing Mr. White so unhinged and unsure of everything, sparking up Jesse’s concern in an instant. He’d spent as much time worrying about the man as he’d been enraged by him.

 

“You know, it’s funny. That whole month before that night, I was so pissed at him. Like, _so fucking angry._ Him fighting me on the blue, and then pulling Gus’s business away, and then, shit, that fucking beat-down from Schrader. But all it would take was for Walt to be a little fucking sorry, just show one … _iota_ of remorse … and I was right back in his corner, like a stupid puppy. How did he always manage to do that?”

 

“I think it was his superpower,” Skyler responded. “It worked on me for years. But then I began seeing through the lies so much easier and … I was simply …tired of it.” She pressed her forehead to Jesse’s side, but he could feel her murmurs vibrate on his skin. “Still, he was a good man, once. And those flashes of decency were always so welcome. I kept hoping they would stay.”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed, clumsily scraping a bundled fist over her hair. He wished he could touch her. “But it never lasted. He’d go back to being a dick before you could blink.”

 

Her eyes met his as she lifted her head. “I think that the more he hurt us, the more it meant he loved us. Isn’t that warped? I’ve actually begun thinking like my mother. And yet, it’s basically true. Walt reserved his worst behavior for the people he cared about the most.”

 

But Jesse was too tired to go down that road. “You know what else he told me? That on the night Jane died – I mean, the night he _let her_ die – he spoke to Jane’s father. Did you know about that story?”

 

“Are you talking about the air traffic controller who apparently caused the Wayfarer collision? I mean, I didn’t know that his daughter had been your girlfriend, or Walt’s role in it all, but I do remember seeing both of their faces on the news.”

 

Jesse sought to wall up the pain in his heart as he received a sudden vision of Jane in his car, her cigarette dangling between her fingers as she spoke of worldly things that he had just pretended to understand.

 

“Yeah, well … Walt said that he’d gone out for diapers or something. I remember him talking about you. He had been watching tv and you were singing to Holly … he could hear it on the baby monitor. That had been his perfect moment to drop dead, I guess. But instead he left, and he … he bought me and Jane my money from all the meth we sold Gus. And then … he went to a bar. He had a conversation with Jane’s dad, only he hadn’t known who the guy was at the time.” Jesse could visualize Walt’s expression again as he’d relayed the events of that night. _Never give up on family._

“And then he came back to my place and watched my girlfriend choke to death.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Gotta say, I kind of wish Walt had gotten his perfect moment, too. Jane would still be alive.” _Maybe,_ he thought blackly. “What were you singing?” He suddenly needed to know.

 

“I beg your pardon? Singing when? To the baby?” Skyler held up her hands in ignorance. “I don’t know. A lullaby, I guess.”

 

“Can you sing me one?” Jesse shifted to his side again, but scooted backwards under the stiff, silvery thermal to make room for her, lifting the plastic tubing from the drip in his arm. “You can come up here, if you want.”

 

Skyler gaped at him with the suggestion. She glanced at the door once more, her hand delicately on her throat, but when she looked back at him, it seemed she had arrived at a decision, and very quickly she pushed down the metal bar on the side of his bed and eased herself up next to him, avoiding all the lines that were strung from him like ribbons. She fiddled along the edge until she had a cord in her hand then pressed the button that raised the top half of the bed until she was able to sit back against his pillows.

 

“Am I going to get yelled at if someone comes in here?” she asked teasingly, and it was good to see her smile.

 

“I’ll take full responsibility for your misconduct and flaunting of hospital rules, don’t worry. Plus, my doctor’s got a boner for me, so I got some pull around here.”

 

The smile flattened, but Skyler brushed her fingers over the top of Jesse’s head and he sighed deeply. She kept her hand there, continued to stroke him languorously while Jesse bent his head closer to her.

 

“I don’t want to sing you a lullaby. You’re not a child, Jesse.”

 

“Well, sing me whatever you want,” he told her with his eyes shut.

 

It stayed quiet for a moment, but then he heard her humming a tune, her voice going deeper once she began to sing. The melancholy notes spiraled into his chest.

 

 _Times are hard_  
_You're afraid to pay the fee_  
_So you find yourself somebody_  
_Who can do the job for free_

She paused for a second, but Jesse nudged her with a wadded hand, making her continue. Skyler resumed with a reedy start, her voice going stronger the more she went on.

 

  
_When you need a bit of lovin'_  
_Cause your man is out of town_  
_That's the time you get me runnin'_  
_And you know I'll be around_

_I'm a fool to do your dirty work_  
_Oh yeah_  
_I don't wanna do your dirty work_  
_No more_  
_I'm a fool to do your dirty work_  
_Oh yeah_

 _Light the candle_  
_Put the lock upon the door_  
_You have sent the maid home early_  
_Like a thousand times before_  
_Like the castle in its corner_  
_In a me-dieval game_  
_I foresee terrible trouble_  
_And I stay here just the same_

_I'm a fool to do your dirty work_  
_Oh yeah_  
_I don't wanna do your dirty work_  
_No more_  
_I'm a fool to do your dirty work_  
_Oh yeah_

Her fingers entwined with his hair while scratching his scalp gently, and as she repeated the chorus one more time Jesse wanted to sink in to her. He rolled up against her side, the blanket pulling taut under her weight. The words swam in his head, feeling as personal as the whale songs.

 

“Did you pick that one because of me?” he asked her.

 

“Maybe,” she answered softly. “Walt did love his Steely Dan records.” He laid his arm flat across her stomach, holding her as tightly as he could while the IV tubing draped across her, too. “But I certainly did plenty of Walt’s dirty work on my own. I guess I had become as delusional as he was.”

 

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pressed him to her. They lay like that for a while, just the sound of their breathing and the rhythmic blips from the EKG monitor hooked up to him.

 

“The very last time I saw Walt alive,” she said in a whisper. “He finally admitted it. That he hadn’t been doing it for us all that time. He’d done it for himself. You were lucky, in that way, Jesse.”

 

He mumbled into the side of her breast. “What are you talking about? How was I _lucky_?”

 

“He loved you because you saw the best of him. Or at least, what _Walt_ considered the best in him. He was finally a powerful man _,_ just like he’d always wanted to be but hadn’t known how to carry out. All the disappointment that came with a family, he could leave that behind when he was with you. But Walt had always been his own worst enemy, and by the end, he’d proven it without a doubt. He got what he wanted, but it cost him everything.”

 

“It cost _all of us_ everything,” Jesse corrected.

 

Skyler pressed her palm to his neck, her skin cool against his making him feel flushed. “Not everything, baby.”

 

He tilted his head back and Skyler shifted downward so that her face was near. Her lips pressed to his and Jesse shut the rest of the world out until all he could hear was her heart beating against his own. Then a clearing cough broke the spell and she moved away from him instantly, twisting in the bed so she could stand up quickly.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jesse heard the Doc say. He lifted himself up to get a better view of the doorway, but Dr. Lacey moved quickly to his bed.

 

“Oh, hey, there, let’s not get too energetic,” he said while pressing a hand to Jesse’s hip to keep him in place. “I need you to stay under there, Jake, until we get your core body temperature back where it’s supposed to be, okay?”

 

He wanted Skyler’s warmth next to him for that, not a crappy space blanket. Jesse held a fist out towards the doctor. “When are you gonna take this batting off? I feel like I’ve got drumsticks for hands, yo.”

 

“Have some patience, Jake. Fingers and toes are the most vulnerable to extreme cold. You’re lucky you didn’t lose any of them. I’m still trying to figure out what possessed you to traipse around in the nude during a blizzard. Miss Lambert doesn’t appear to be any wiser on the matter. Care to enlighten us?”

 

“Not really,” he rejoined. “When do I get out of here?” Instead of replying, the Doc took hold of Jesse’s wrist and pressed a finger there as he regarded his watch. Jesse didn’t really think his blood pressure was in question, but he allowed the doctor to fuss over him in as professional a manner as the man could muster, pulling out a stethoscope to listen to Jesse’s heart next. If Lacey reached over to feel Jesse’s forehead, it wouldn’t surprise him. The doc came around the other side of the hospital bed and put the icy disc to his bare back, asking Jesse to breathe in and out deeply. Jesse complied, his sight remaining on Skyler as she nervously folded her arms at her waist.

 

“Well, your lungs sound clearer and your breathing has improved. That’s a good sign.” He spoke to Skyler over Jesse’s shoulder. “Is he making sense since he’s been awake? Any slurring or difficulty with his speech?”

 

She shook her head. “No, not for the last ten, fifteen minutes. He’s … he seems fully coherent.” Her mouth lifted at the corner as she winked at Jesse. “He’s making perfect sense, actually.”

 

There was another throat clearing. “Well … good. That’s what we want. If you’re a good patient and listen to the nurses, Jake, I promise I will get you out of here by tomorrow, okay? But you’re going to feel a little woozy for a while, so we’d like to keep you here until we’re sure all of your organs are functioning normally. Core re-warming is the most critical phase of treatment, and without it, the heart is susceptible to ventricular fibrillation, which can lead to cardiac arrest. We had you on heated oxygen for a while, but you recouped your body’s heat loss fairly rapidly. You were pretty blue when … Hannah and I got you here. I – well, _we_ were both worried sick about you.” Lacey’s face turned grave. “Please don’t pull a stunt like that again, okay?”

 

“Sure, Doc, whatever you say,” he answered sleepily.

 

“Do you need anything? I can have the nurse bring you some juice or decaffeinated tea. I wouldn’t recommend food just yet, but soon.”

 

“Can I just … is it okay if I sit with –with Hannah for a bit? I’m kinda tired, but I … I need to talk a little more, if that’s alright.”

 

The doctor turned to Skyler with a strained smile. “Oh, of course, I don’t … well, let’s not make it too long, okay? Our patient needs his rest. I’ll – I’ll check on you later, Jake.” He disappeared through the door before Jesse could mutter a passable thank you, and he made a mental note to show the doc his appreciation as soon as he was out of there.

 

He held an oversized hand out to Skyler. “You gonna come back and lay next to me again? I liked that.”

 

Skyler joined him on the bed, navigating the tubes again before immediately propping a palm on the crown of his head. He curled his body towards her like a cat, disregarding the squeaks of his cover, wanting only the comfort she could give him. He felt the tenderness of her touch as she rubbed a hand over his hair, and it left him on the edge of weeping, exhaustion sweeping over him once more as he reached for her.

 

“I called Marie. She … she was very upset when I told her what happened. I mean, she’s concerned for you. And pretty angry with me.”

 

“Why’s she mad at you?” He pictured Marie in his head wagging a finger at her sister and almost wished she were around. At least between the two of them there had been something of a balance for Jesse to handle.

 

“Um … I gather because … I told her about us?”

 

“You did? Like, everything?” Jesse felt surprise at her news, but the revelation left a little buoyant glow in his chest, warming him through more effectively than the saline. It was the kind of acknowledgement that Walter had rarely afforded him.

 

“Well, mostly everything. I mean, I didn’t share with her the things you told me, of course … you know, about the – the compound. But she knows we’ve been … _with_ each other while I’ve been here. And I explained to her what prompted your breakdown. How it was my fault.”

 

“You think that was a breakdown? Aw, babe, that was nothing. You’ve missed out on some pretty epic fucking meltdowns, believe me.” Even while he grinned at her half-heartedly, Jesse could see himself beating the crap out of Saul, felt that rage touch him briefly from the high in Walt’s house, the gasoline can trembling in his hands.

 

“Baby, you went catatonic on me again and subsequently almost froze to death. I call that a breakdown.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s … that’s just protection, you get me? I just – sometimes, I gotta shut down. It’s no big deal. I used to do that in my cell, whenever Todd or … you know, stuff would happen. In the after hours, late at night, I could go somewhere else, somewhere safe in my head. And it was okay. I would get a second wind, right? It was … it was good. Helped me deal.”

 

Nails scraped lightly up the nape of his neck and he shivered. “Oh, sweetie,” she sighed above him. “You’re like Sisyphus with his rock. And I’m just trying to make sure it stops rolling over you. I don’t want to … force anything on you anymore, Jesse. I’m not Walt. But I want you to be safe. And happy. And cared for. Whatever I can do, baby …” Her voice trailed off and the nails were back to caressing his scalp and across his forehead making him drowsier. Jesse hadn’t slept nearly as much in the past year as he had in the last week, but the thought of Skyler not being there to talk to when he needed to get things out made him suddenly anxious.

 

“I guess you’ll be leaving soon, huh?” he croaked, clutching her elbow as he burrowed his face to the space alongside her breast.

 

The question hung in the room briefly, but then Skyler shifted so that she was facing him. “I think it’s time, Jesse. It should come as a relief to you, by this point.”

 

But Jesse didn’t feel relief, only a trenchant sorrow, wondering if there would ever come a time when he would finally learn how to hold on to anyone that meant something to him. His disconsolation had become a part of him, however, as tangible and heavy as any limb, and he understood that there would never be a time when he wouldn’t have this built-in platform of despair. Yet, Jesse would rather have that keenness stretched through him like sap in a great oak than feel nothing at all.

 

“Can I ask you something, Skyler? And I know I’ve given you a hard time about this before, but this time, I’m just asking honestly. For real.”

 

“What is it, hon?”

 

“Why did you stay? Why didn’t you turn him in, even near the end?”

 

Skyler wriggled closer to him until they were almost nose-to-nose. Her eyelashes were cast down to the tops of her fine cheekbones and Jesse ached to kiss them.

 

“When I made Walt go to the gambling addiction group, to build up our story about how he got all that money, one of the things they used to talk about was the fallacy of sunk costs,” she began. “It was basically this idea that when you put so much investment into making something work; in their case, putting a lot of money into a losing streak, you become unable to pull out of it. You start to believe that if you just put more in – more money, more time, a bigger commitment – it will finally pay off, work out in your favor. And I kept sticking to that belief that … if I just held on, Walt would no longer be in the picture and all that hardship, all the deceptions, all the _lying,_ it would at least have been for _something._ But towards the end, I realized, I was thinking exactly like him. It wasn’t just for the family. I had never been in control. Walt wasn’t ever going to go back to the man he’d been. And when Hank was killed … I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.”

 

Jesse wrapped his arms around her so that his hands sat at the back of her waist, the action pulling the needle in his arm free, but he didn’t care as long as she kept talking.

 

“Sometimes, in the middle of the night when I’m just laying in my bed and can’t close my eyes, I see the truth and I know if I had just gone to the police when I first found out – none of this would have happened. Hank would be alive and my sister would still be happy. My son would have found out, sure, but … he learned what his father had become, anyway. I didn’t save anybody; I didn’t even save my son from bitter disappointment. All that I managed to accomplish was stretching his disgust to include me. I don’t even know what to blame, whether it was desperation or simply arrogance, but I know, every day, that I’m culpable in my brother-in-law’s death. You were right, Jesse. I can’t hide behind Walt, anymore. Otherwise, I’ll never be free of him.”

 

It was hearing her say the words that made something seize inside of Jesse. It was a wallop to his chest, but then the pain receded and heat filled him to his throat. And when he envisioned Walt’s face, it was the way he’d looked back in the lab during the night with the fly. Walt’s gaze had penetrated Jesse as he’d conveyed what he’d wanted Jesse to understand. _Never give up on family. And I didn’t. I took his advice._ He held that moment like a sparrow’s egg in his hand, delicate but formed to perfection, and saw it for what it had meant to them both.

Mr. White. His partner. His teacher. But his father, too. The man who’d had his back more times than his own family had ever managed. His reassuring friend. His hated master. His great love. Walt had been so many things to him that he doubted he’d ever be able to truly comprehend them all. It was a tide that washed in and out, this cavalcade of feelings for the man who’d upended his life and yet taught him more than anyone else. And he was still teaching him. It was time to let go. If Skyler could do it, than he could, as well.

 

He pressed his forehead to Skyler’s, linked his fingers at her back so that he could hold on, and he summoned up Walter one last time. He saw him sitting by the bed, saw him stand up, stroke a hand over Skyler’s hair, and then walk casually out of the room, his form disintegrating before he ever reached the doorway. Jesse breathed in and held it, felt the swell of his heart with his ribcage, and then let the breath slowly exhale from his lips, imagining Walt in that stream of air as it billowed past Skyler and wafted through the room to follow the apparition that had already gone before it. Jesse felt suddenly lightheaded, like he was floating, and with the first wave of panic he gripped Skyler tighter. She shushed him quietly, enveloped him in her arms, and Jesse waved goodbye in his dreams. All the things that he had wanted to scream to Walt in that last nod of acceptance dispersed like seeds in the wind, and Jesse felt that puncture of freedom again, while speeding down the gravel road, exultant and victorious.

 

Jesse was free.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Jessjake? Momma, Jessjake sleeping?_

Jesse felt the small body wriggling on his torso before he could determine where he was. He heard voices in low murmurs somewhere nearby, but then there was a high-pitched cry and Marie was suddenly talking by his ear.

 

“Yes, Jessjake is sleeping. You need to let him rest. Get down from there, right this second, baby girl. You can wait until he wakes up to show him your book.”

 

“It’s okay. She can show it to me now,” he muttered. He snapped open his eyes with a stretch. Holly’s nose was as close as her mother’s had been when he’d fallen asleep. “Whoa, what’s up, Holly?”

 

“Jessjake! _Looook_ , here. See?” The corner of the book poked him in the chin. “Jessjake, I read story? Look.”

 

The little girl had her entire weight on his chest by then, but then Skyler was there pulling her backwards until she was perched on the spare bit of mattress at his side. “Holly, be careful. Jake is still feeling sore, okay? We want him to feel better, so you need to take care of him. Alright? You can read to him but let’s not crawl all over him.”

 

“Aw, I don’t mind,” he said, feeling spirited along by the feminine energy in the room. He spread an arm open, the IV needle back in place. “You can sit here, Holly, so I can see the pictures.”

 

“Jake? Hon, how are you doing?” Marie asked, her face filled with that usual consternation. She came around the other side of his bed and wrapped a hand around his bicep. “Dr. Lacey said we can take you home today, if your vital signs check out. We’ve been all over this hospital since this morning. It’s very clean. I think you’re in good hands.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in … you know, like court? How did you get permission to leave the state?” Holly had squirmed her way into the crook of his arm and was trying to shove the open pages towards his nose. He gently angled it down and let her pat the side of his beard.

 

“Well, this is one of those times when it pays to have a boyfriend in law enforcement. Why do you think I married a cop?” she quipped.

 

“Marie, let’s keep it down, okay?” Skyler pointed to the opposite corner. “Jake’s got a new roommate.”

 

Jesse tried to lift his head to take a peek, but Holly was adamant that he absorb the storybook illustrations on the glossy paper. Shifting her so that he she could stay in his embrace while he flipped the book back to the first page, there was the sudden dawning that his hands were no longer fettered. Black smudges ran along the tips of a few fingers.

 

“Wow, what’s that? Looks like a moose.”

 

“Dragon!” she shouted jubilantly.

 

Both women shushed her. “Holly, what did I say? We talk in a whisper,” Skyler chastised lightly, but Jesse could see in her expression that she was glad to have her daughter back. She stood with a stronger posture than she’d carried since the sisters had arrived over a week ago, and he knew without a doubt that she was still sober, a fact that made him happier than he had a right to be.

 

“Well, I think we should take advantage of this facility while he’s here. Jake, there are … doctors in this hospital that you could talk to. I’m just saying.” Marie tucked up her shoulders to her neck with her hands spread in a note of concession. “We’ll talk more about that later, but just know the offer’s still on the table.”

 

Jesse expelled a heavy breath. “Okay.”

 

“Oh, and your boss came by with the doctor and the sheriff while you were passed out. We told him that you’d been distraught when you gave notice, because you’d just received some bad news from home. But that you’ve decided to stay and that you are definitely going to sign up for that apprenticeship.”

 

“What?” He shot an aggrieved look to Skyler and she had the good sense to appear chastened.

 

“I’m sorry, Je – Jake. I mentioned it and now she won’t let go of it. But don’t worry, hon, we’ve got this. Mr. Lowell wants you to take the next few weeks off. It’ll be enough time for us, before the trial even starts, to get things in motion.”

 

“Wait, are you serious? We talked about this, Skyler. I told you to stay out of it. I’m not going to be responsible for you both –”

 

“Jake, we know what we’re doing,” Marie insisted, squeezing his arm in support. “Just let us handle it.”

 

“You can live a life here, babe,” Skyler told him softly. “Please. Don’t do anything just yet. Promise me that you’ll give us these two weeks to work it out, at least. Just give me that chance, hon, to make things right.”

 

“I can’t repay you,” he said. “You don’t have to—”

 

“You still owe me a painting, mister, remember?” Marie interrupted again, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “I’ve got a place already picked out for it in the living room. And I’ll want to pay a good delivery service to have it shipped properly, you know, make sure it doesn’t arrive all battered and ruined. So … I think you should take some of this free time to get started on it, don’t you? Who knows, it might end up decorating my jail cell. I’ll have to play girlfriend to someone named Bertha, or Big Betty, maybe, to provide me with protection.”

 

“Marie, don’t joke about that,” he replied with a wince. “I’ll do your damn painting. Aw, geez, sorry, Holly. You didn’t hear that, okay?”

 

“ _Geeeeze,”_ Holly repeated as she plucked at his IV.

 

“How did you even explain you guys being here?” he asked both sisters. “With the sheriff already hearing your bogus story, I mean. What the hell did you tell him?”

 

Marie’s expression turned serious. “Oh. Well … I told him that Skyler and I were your lovers. That we’d been taking turns with you at our hotel when he’d met us in town, and we came up with an excuse so we wouldn’t have to explain why we were really there. Which was to hook up with you. For sex.” She switched her weight to her other foot. “It was awkward.”

 

His mouth dropped open as he gave another accusing glance to Skyler. She shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, she started talking before I could get a word in edgewise. At least it got them out of the room in a hurry.”

 

“Great. So now I’m like the town gigolo?”

 

Marie scratched at the scruff of his beard. “Well, from what I’ve heard, there are plenty of other folks around here who’ve been thinking about you the same way,” she said with a coy smile.

 

He was about respond when a nurse came in with a vase of brightly colored flowers. “Here’s another one, Mr. Hennings. This room is going to smell less lovely when you’re gone.” She walked past them all and brought the vase to a nearby table he hadn’t even noticed festooned with more flower arrangements.

 

“Huh? What – who are those from?” he asked in surprise. The corner was an explosion of yellows, reds, and purples masking the drab grey through the window.

 

The nurse bent over them to read a few cards. “This one just now was from Anne’s Tavern. This one is from Mr. Lowell. This one is from the girls at the health food store on twelfth. This one is from your friends here,” she said about the largest, most purple bouquet, pointing towards the two women by his bedside. “Looks like a lot of people want you to get well, sweetie.”

 

In all the times that Jesse had been admitted to emergency rooms, he’d never once walked out with flowers. Or anything that suggested people had cared he was there in the first place. He turned away quickly as a flood of emotion hit him, and Holly took the opportunity to smack at his cheek.

 

“Hey! Hey, _Jaaaake._ Look.” She pointed to another picture in her book of the dragon bearing a great purple valentine heart at his chest and Jesse hugged her closer.

 

“Thank you so much, Holly, for showing me your book,” he said to her thickly, blinking back tears. “I’m so happy you came to visit me.” And he was. Even having Marie here when she was in danger of breaking a bond meant a great deal to him. Their presence made him miss his hometown for a shining moment, along with his old friends and haunts and the person he’d been before becoming a meth dealing asshole. He thought about his family, about Jake and Ginny, and his grief was a suffocating sheet of hardened blue being smashed into a million crystal shards.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So, then Hank sent the final card and it was one of those silly giant ones, that are like as big as a – a small animal, and it was _soooo_ sappy, you guys, just cheese-o-matic, but I thought, well, if this guy is going to go to all of this trouble making a fool of himself, I should at least give him one date, right? But he was definitely charming that first dinner. Not terribly smooth – he was sweating so much he had pit stains that had taken over his shirt – but endearing, you know? Hank could be such a teddy bear.”

 

They were sitting at dinner in the hotel restaurant, the lighting dim enough in their corner of the floor that it felt intimate and concealed simultaneously. Jesse felt a greater solidity to his body, as though he’d been out of focus for months and he’d just been given definition with the twist of a knob, now full of bold color and sharp lines. He was still exhausted from the past week’s trials, but it was the kind of fatigue derived from great accomplishment, and that sense of gratification buoyed him up as the women chatted at the table.

 

“Jake – oh my God, I’m almost used to calling you that, now – if we send stuff to you through Stephen is that going to be okay? I mean, so nothing is likely to be tracked. He can be your liaison, like in spy novels.”

 

It was still taking him some adjusting to get used to the Doc knowing everything. That had been a distressing conversation in the doctor’s office, but at least Skyler had prepared him beforehand. It bothered him having so many people complicit in his lie but he also didn’t want to leave to start over again, especially alone. He felt more real and more useful as Jake Hennings than he ever had as Jesse Pinkman. He’d certainly heard his given name yelled enough over his few years with Walt to last him a life time.

 

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve got a po box, if you know, you just want to drop a line to say hi, or whatever, but the other stuff … he’s going to know how to handle that better than me.”

 

“Good. You’re so lucky to have him as a … a friend. He really cares about you.” Marie smiled warmly, stretching across the table to take hold of his hand. “We care about you, too.”

 

Jesse ducked his head shyly but he let Marie hold his hand. “Yeah, I kind of got that.” Skyler shifted closer to him in their booth and grabbed the other one.

 

“Just know that if you need _anything …_ anything at all, you can count on us,” Marie continued earnestly. “Even if I’m in jail you can still call me and I’ll do my best to help.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Alright, geez, for the last time, you’re not going to jail. You said so yourself, you got a perfect defense. You’ll be fine. Just make sure you cry a lot whenever you’re on the stand.”

 

“Oh, you bet I will. I’ve got plenty to cry about, after all.”

 

He bit at his lip, the thought that had been niggling at him since she arrived itching his tongue. “You know, you could still – if you need to roll on me, I’ll understand. I know I’m your get-out-jail-free card, so if it looks like you have to use it, don’t … don’t worry about me, okay? Do what you got to do.”

 

Both women squeezed his hands tighter while Marie’s eyes widened. “It won’t come to that, hon. You’re right, I need to stay positive. But I’d never do that to you, Jesse.”

 

“It’s Jake, remember? And you never know what you will or won’t do until that moment comes,” he said sagely.

 

The table grew quiet momentarily until their waitress came by to ask about dessert. Holly took that instance to voice her displeasure at being locked in a high chair. She motioned towards Jesse with her little arms and her whines indicated where she’d rather be sitting.

 

“Jake, will you split a cheesecake with me? I'm watching my calorie intake but I’ve got the worst sweet tooth tonight.”

 

Jesse got up to pull Holly free from her chair and let her get comfortable on his lap. She was immediately giddy, twisting in her seat to clutch a fistful of the hair hanging almost to his shoulders.

 

“I think Holly and I are just gonna split an ice cream sundae. What do you think, Holly?”

 

“Ice cream?” She rent the air with an ensuing screech that conveyed her feelings on the matter of dessert. Holly’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth a perfect oval as the women shushed her once more. Jesse laughed and tousled her curls.

 

“Yeah, I think that’s an affirmative. You’ll just have to take on that extra pound, Marie. I mean, Sherrie. Whatever.”

 

The waitress left with their orders and Skyler forced Holly to sit properly and face the table, running a hand up his back comfortingly as Marie carried on with her with her Hank stories. There was a lull in Marie’s nattering and Skyler took the opportunity to speak up.

 

“You know, I remember when Walt first started teaching, how he used to come home so irritated, and just so thoroughly annoyed by the end of the week. He would rant about the apathy of the students for hours. It really took a lot of time for him to come to grips with it, not being a researcher anymore, but having to adjust his personality to being with lots of people all day. But … I think it was good for him, being a teacher. He really valued those students who listened to what he had to say. Every once in a while, he would mention one of them at home, and I could see that pride glowing in him.” She locked eyes with Jesse and they held the warm glow from the candlelight at their table. Her expression was full of meaning as she grabbed hold of his wrist.

 

“You said that he hated having you as a student, but I don’t think he did, at all. He saw something in you from the beginning.”

 

Jesse took a deep breath, not quite ready to reminisce fondly about his old teacher just yet. He wanted to spend at least a week or two not thinking about the man at all. But her thoughts on Walt’s classroom days sparked a moment in his head that he couldn’t shake, and he wondered if perhaps Skyler had gotten some truth to it.

 

“You know, he would assign us this big project we had to do for the end of the year. You had to partner with someone for the credit, and the friend I had in his class was not exactly the best influence, so we’d spent most of the hour cutting each other up, right? And you can forget about us getting together to study; alls we’d end doing was blazing one up and dick—er, wasting time. But then one day Walt asked me to stay after class. Which wasn’t anything new, really, he liked to chew me out after class all the time. But he was acting different that day, like … like he had something important to tell me.”

 

Jesse could still remember the antiseptic smells of the room, just like a hospital, the lingering odor of sulfur so often present. The Bunsen burners and flasks being rationed out to each desk, the goggles that never sat properly on his face – and Walt’s imposing stature in front of the desk, always disapproving and implacable. But that day, he didn’t glare at Jesse with his usual hostility, his face softened with an inexplicable sadness.

 

“He told me that he was going to give me a new lab partner. That he knew I could answer the questions or do the work if I just applied myself. Which – hell, that wasn’t nothing new, either; I’d heard it over and over. But … then he said something that kind of surprised me.”

 

_Jesse, I spoke with your parents last week. It was … very informative, but we all agreed that you need a little more motivation. I push you hard, Jesse, because I know that you’re capable, deep down. But you need to get out of this vision you have of yourself, first. I know that it can be … challenging to have very high expectations placed in front of you. I understand that, I truly do. But sooner or later, you have to make the decision to become your own man, son._

“He’d … spoken to my dad pretty recently, I guess. And he told me that I … I was going to have to become my own man. And he said it like … not like he was mad or anything, but just, I don’t know, kind of tired. Like he’d seen that story before and he knew he was going to see it a hundred more times, and wouldn’t it be cool if just once he could intervene and make things not play out the same way. I thought for a moment that he got it, you know? That he was on my side.” Jesse could still feel that moment so clearly – the hope that someone out there understood and could give him some guidance without making him feel small and worthless. But it had been dashed in Walt’s next breath.

 

“But then he told me who my partner was going to be and I was too busy getting pissed off to listen to what he was telling me. I wanted it to mean that I had to show my old man up, that I had to rebel to not be like him, and not do everything he wanted me to. But Walt wasn’t saying that, at all. And it wasn’t until … well, until I got here that I finally understood what he meant.”

 

The sisters nodded knowingly, still grasping his hands.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was on the way to the room that the nature of their situation became acutely awkward. Both women tossed furtive glances to each other and then to Jesse as their party headed towards the elevator, the implicit understanding that sleeping arrangements were being considered etched on their faces. Jesse was carrying Holly on his hip as she chatted away in her sing song voice, but he stopped in his tracks before they got too close to the doors. The women turned back to him in puzzlement.

 

“Um. I think I can probably get the Doc to give me a lift home. You guys have a long day of travel tomorrow and Holly needs to get to bed, so …”

 

Marie stepped up to him to clutch his arm. “Well, you were going to see us off in the morning, right? You promised me you would. Why don’t we just pay to have you stay here tonight?” She darted a quick glance to Skyler who cast her eyes to the floor. “You know, you’re still recovering from your ordeal, sweetie, you could use the rest. Just stay here tonight so you can avoid all that driving. Have a relaxing bath, watch some television, get … get a proper night’s sleep.”

 

Jesse felt the heat rise in his face, sure that he must be blushing. “Oh, well … I mean, you don’t got to do that. I just figured I’d go home and start painting. You know, I kind of miss it. I don’t – you ladies have spent enough on me already.”

 

“Jesse, please,” Skyler said. “In the interest of your health – let us just do this. It’ll save time in the morning, and you really do need to rest. I – I’d really like it if you stay.” She pointed to her daughter in Jesse’s arms, the little girl’s head already lolling on his shoulder. “And I know that Holly will be thrilled to have you here when she gets up.”

 

He sighed in surrender. “ _Okay,_ fine. Jesus. But I’ll pay for my own room.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Marie added. “It’s our treat. You’re our guest.”

 

“Is that what I am?” he asked bemusedly, thinking about all the times he had given in to Walt’s demands, even while knowing how much it would cost him. Yet it felt different with these women. He didn’t feel reduced to a fraction of himself, he felt cherished. And while that was a feeling that Jesse Pinkman had never grown used to, perhaps Jake Hennings could handle it.

 

“Okay, then,” he agreed. The three of them turned to head back to the desk, the sweet tickle of Holly’s breath on his neck with the sisters smiling on either side of him.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we reach the end ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author wished to apologize for the hasty posting of the last chapter. It took almost a week before noticing the missing breaks, the awkward spacing, and the lack of italics where they were meant to be. It has since been fixed.
> 
> The author also wants to thank warriorpoet, celeryy, and falafelfiction for their input and assistance on this story. They all had a hand in shaping the way the author approached the characters. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone, again, for your comments.
> 
> It's been emotional.

 

**_Chapter 15_ **

 

****

                It was almost midnight when he heard the soft knock at the door, but he’d been expecting it. Opening the door partway, Jesse cracked a wistful smile at Skyler on the other side. She was still dressed in her sweater and slacks but wore only socks on her feet. She shook her phone in front of him.

 

                “Still makes a great baby monitor,” she said softly. She stood awkwardly with a tilt of her hip, no longer the proud woman he’d met years ago, but one unsure of herself as she nervously scanned the hallway behind her. “Is it alright if I come in?”

 

                Jesse leaned against the doorframe as though he were laying his head to a pillow. “Aw, Sky. I don’t know if I should, babe. I don’t know if I can …” He shrugged weakly, too tired to explain further. She and Marie were taking an enormous risk to keep him protected and he didn’t want to feel like he was paying her off with sex.

 

                “We don’t have to … I just wanted to talk, Jesse. To say … goodbye while we still had a chance to be alone.”

 

                He moved aside to allow her passage with a sweep of his arm across the room. “Sure. Come on in.”

 

                They sat on the bed together, both of them eyeballing each other with apprehension. Jesse scooted back against his pillows to put just enough space between them to make his request clear. He didn’t need to wade through any more emotional fallout from the previous two nights yet knowing he wouldn’t see Skyler again had complicated his feelings towards her more so than he could have imagined. Jesse ached for the comfort she gave him, but longed to be freed from the past she was attached to.

 

                “I wanted to let you know that I’ve been in contact with my guy. We have a meeting set so that I can make the drop as soon as I get back to Albuquerque. He assures me it shouldn’t take him longer than two weeks to get the required documents. So … he’ll arrange to have the package brought to Stephen by a local courier. I’ll text you the meet-up place as soon as I have it.”

 

                “Oh, right – yeah, of course. I mean, that’s … I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this, Skyler. You _or_ your sister. That’s … a lot of money. I don’t deserve you guys being so generous with me and I shouldn’t be taking it, but … I hope you know how much I appreciate this. Really, I do.”

 

                She gave him a wan smile. “I don’t see it that way, hon. You _will_ take this money – because it’s your due, Jesse. You and I both know it came from Walt. And he would have wanted you to have this, would have done whatever he could to make sure you had a decent life out here. He owed you that much.”

 

                Jesse sucked in a pained breath, grabbing the back of his neck with both hands. “I don’t know about that, Sky. I know you don’t want to believe that he was probably coming to kill me along with everyone else, but you weren’t there. Dude’s probably pissed that you’re doing this, wherever his crusty ass is haunting next.”

 

                She reached out to grasp his leg, her voice husky but earnest. “And what did happen when he came to the compound, Jesse? Why didn’t you get gunned down with all the rest of them?”

 

                His gaze trailed off to the window as he sighed, a sliver of the night sky peeking through the parting between curtains. He knew what she was getting at, but he was still reluctant to admit it.

 

                “Whatever, man.” Jesse worked his jaw trying to wear away the old aggravation. “He jumped me, alright? Knocked us both to the floor before he hit his button on the key ring, or however he set that gun off. So, yeah, he saved my life _again_ , I get that. I just can’t be indebted to him anymore. I’d rather believe that I’m taking money from you or, hell, even your son, than think of this as blood money from Walt. Just fucking let me pretend, Skyler, okay?”

 

                “Of course, Jesse. I understand, baby. I do. As long as you realize that Walt did love you. That’s why he let you go.”

 

                Her insistence was making him uncomfortable and he shook his leg to knock her hand loose, shifting on the bed to sit Indian-style. “We really don’t have to talk about that guy, anymore, you know. It’s the last night I’m ever gonna see you. Isn’t there something else we can have a conversation about?”

 

                “Okay, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She appeared hesitant for a moment before continuing. “It’s just that … I was thinking about something at dinner – something Junior said to me when his father disappeared. After all the coverage on the news and in the papers, he’d finally found out about you. He became really fascinated by your story, in fact, even a little obsessed. He watched all of the interviews with your parents, often multiple times. And when I asked him why he was so interested in his father’s missing partner he told me about a time the year before – the day after his sixteenth birthday – when he’d gone to see his father and … well, I guess Walt had been in a fight. He was pretty banged up; he’d been taking pain pills and drinking, so Walt was groggy but very upset, Flynn said. He told me that Walt had started crying, that he was inconsolable, which was a big deal for Flynn because his father never liked to show weakness in front of him. Walt kept saying that he was sorry, that he’d screwed up.” Skyler stared intently at the bedcover as if she were watching the scene play out in its folds. “That … that it had been his fault and that he’d had it coming. And even though Flynn had no idea what his father was talking about, he’d felt incredibly close to him in that moment. Flynn said he’d finally had this chance to glimpse Walt at his most real and that he’d wanted to remember him like that. Anyway, he helped Walt into bed, tried to get his father back to sleep. I guess Walt was rambling while asking questions about the birthday party we had for him. But … as he got ready to leave the room, Walt – in his drug addled haze – called him Jesse.”

 

                She paused, turned to lock eyes with him.

 

                “Apparently, the name stuck with Flynn. I told him that it was a simple mistake. That surely with the way you two worked side-by-side, Walt was used to saying your name almost as much as his own son’s. But he seemed to think it was a different kind of slip. Walt, you see, was notorious for uttering more truth when he was drugged than when he was sober. Flynn took it as a sign of rejection. Once he discovered who you were, he decided that you’d taken his place long before Walt’s crimes had seen the light of day. I think it made him hate his father more –if the knife-wielding over his mother, kidnapping his sister, and having a role in his uncle’s murder hadn’t been enough to accomplish that already. I tried to convince him that Walt loved him more than anyone, but … he refuses to believe it. I wonder, sometimes, if he’s realized that the money from Gretchen and Eliot is really his father’s inheritance or if he’s willfully living in ignorance. Seeing Walt destroy his son made me hate him all the more, too. And now I’ve seen what he did to you. I suppose Flynn got off lucky, in comparison. Still … I have to agree with him, these days.”

 

                Jesse held the image of him and Walt beating the hell out of each other in his old living room for a moment before letting it dispel with a forceful breath. It seemed a fitting visual for their relationship but one that held no satisfaction for him any longer. “Yeah, well, it sounds like he was as shitty a father as he was a father-figure. Can’t say that any of what you shared is all that comforting, either. I think we’ve established that having Walt care about you was a pretty crappy deal. So, I guess you’re right, Sky. Walter loved the shit out of me. Glad we got that cleared up.” He shook his head with another shrug of his shoulders. “Daddy’s dead, though, and we all have to let him go. I think your son has probably got it right if he’s taking that money and shooting the finger to his old man at the same time.”

 

                Skyler eased closer to him, grabbed a hold of his thigh as she tried to bring him to her side. Jesse obliged her, his energy sapped. He would be looking forward to sleeping for a few days once he was back home.

 

                “I only told you this because I want you to see Walt plainly. He did care for you, possibly more than he cared for his own son. But you’re right, Jesse, he’s dead and no longer in our lives. The thing to remember is that … you still have a father. A father who’s alive and cares about you even more than Walt ever did. And I’m sure you don’t believe that, either, but it’s true. I’m willing to bet anything that your family still cares for you and they’re worried about you. I saw those interviews, too. I think of your mother, Jesse, and I imagine how I’d feel if I never saw Flynn again –” Her voice cracked as she struggled to finish, and Skyler turned away for a moment, covering her mouth. Jesse grabbed hold of her hand, her body going blurry from his own tears forming. After a moment, she faced him again, looking resolute. “I just don’t want you to feel alone, Jesse. You should find some way to let your family know you’re alive. Put them at peace. Sometimes, family is all we have. I know I complain about Marie, but honestly,” and this time she did break down into tears, “I don’t know what I would have done without her. We – we save each other. We’ll always be there for each other. We keep trying, Jesse – no matter what.”

 

                “Yeah, well, what about _your_ dad,” he said hoarsely, his own emotions huge and unwieldy leaving a brick lodged in his throat. “You said yourself you don’t want to have anything to do with him. You and your sister wrote him off because he’s an asshole. You think my parents haven’t done the same?”

 

                “Well … maybe it’s time I forgave him. But I needed to forgive Walter first. And I think I can now, thanks to you, hon.” Her fingers arced towards him and tenderly stroked back his hair, the longing inside of him now keen to break free of his chest. “You need to forgive your family, too. People we love make mistakes, Jesse, but you don’t give up on them. You, more than anyone, should understand that. And wouldn’t it be better to reach out to each other and find a place to start over again? Wouldn’t it be a comfort to know you have someone in your corner wherever you are?”

 

                “Uh, sure, but there’s the little matter of me being a fugitive from the law,” he said sounding stuffed up, the tears having made their escape as they trickled down the sides of his nose. “My old man would give me up in a heartbeat, I tried to contact him.”

 

                “Would he, Jesse?” She searched for something in his eyes, her words heavy.

 

                “What about you? What are you going to do?” He had both of her hands in his grip and pressed her knuckles to his stomach. “How will I know that you’re gonna be okay after you leave? That you’ll stay sober? I want you to be better, Skyler.” He shook his head in amazement. “After everything that happened between us these past few weeks, I need to know that you’re going to go home and be alright. You know, get in the program, if you have to. It didn’t really work for me, but maybe for you …”

 

                “Baby, I’ll be fine. Really. And once again, that’s because of you. You made me take a hard look at myself and … I need to change things. I see that. I can’t continue to wallow in that place. It’s not good for me and it’s especially not good for my daughter.” She slid a nail down the planes of his face, coasting it along a scar. “I need to get out of New Mexico, too. Any suggestions?”

 

                He grabbed hold of her finger and kissed the tip. “I thought about moving to New Zealand once,” he offered before thinking of someplace more practical. “Maybe you should take Holly to California. You know, you can be closer to your other kid and your old man, too. Plus, there are killer beaches everywhere. Holly could become a surfer. She’d be awesome.” He imagined the possibilities for her. “You could even do some traveling. Hell, you could go anywhere.”

 

                “New Zealand, huh?” she said. “And yet here you are in Alaska.”

 

                He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I had to go somewhere and it was a place that just came to me. There was this show I used to watch called _Ice Road Truckers,_ and they would feature this state a lot. It looked so beautiful. I’m really glad I came here. It’s not Paris, but it’s clean and it’s clear. It kind of makes _me_ feel clean.”

 

                “Hmm, now Paris – that’s an interesting one. I took French for four years. I could use a good excuse to brush up on it.”

 

                “Yeah? See, now, I could totally see you on the Champ Ellsee-say. Or whatever it’s called. That street with the arc.”

 

                Skyler grinned at him playfully, her eyes still shining wetly. “Yes, that street. I wouldn’t mind showing it to Holly.”

 

                “Yeah. A beautiful woman like you – you’d fit right in.” He smiled broadly back at her, but her expression turned suddenly desperate as she put her hands up to cradle his jaw.

 

                “Baby … whatever happens here … just know that … we’re your family, too. Marie and Holly and I. If you ever need me for anything, sweetie, you just need to call me. For anything. We’ll find a way.”

 

                She leaned in to kiss him and Jesse felt that yearning yawn through him, an echo ringing through a cavern. He breathed her in, the last he’d ever taste and smell of Mrs. White, and opened his mouth to her. Her arms encircled him then locked together in a crushing embrace and Jesse followed her lead, ignoring the dull protest from ribs that had been broken by the past. Instead, he felt love and forgiveness intertwine through his bones and glom onto his skeleton as a creeping green vine, sinewy but strong, where tendrils sprung forth to birth white flowers of hopefulness and dreams, the nightmares fading into wispy smoke inhaled by a bald giant.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “Skyler, did you get Holly’s bag? I don’t see it here,” Marie asked distractedly as she inspected their luggage in the back of the Pathfinder.

 

                “Yes, Marie. It’s up in the front. I’ve got her covered.” Skyler sounded resigned but patient with her sister as she searched through her purse. Jesse held Holly in his arms, her fingers tugging at his beard as they watched the bellboy load up the last suitcase into the back before closing the hatch. She stretched a pudgy hand to the car.

 

                “Bol-fin,” she whined. Jesse opened up the door to the back where her car seat was buckled with the toy dolphin lying in wait.

 

                “It’s right here, Holly. You got your people close by, you got everything you need. You’re all set. And you even get to go on another plane ride. I’m totally jealous. Airplanes are awesome, yo.”

 

                “Yo!” Holly screamed with a slap at his chest and both mother and aunt turned sharp glances and wide eyes in their direction. Jesse couldn’t help but grin. The idea that he might influence Mr. White’s daughter in a way that would have made the old man crazy was too delicious a thought to pass up. _Can you say ‘bitch’, Holly?_

                He fit Holly into her seat and ran the seat buckle over her front. Holly put her hand to the top of his beard again, but this time she rubbed at his vertical scar above it much the same way her mother had done the night before. The memory of her touch made him tilt his head away from her daughter.

 

                “Jessjake has boo-boo,” she stated.

 

                “Yeah, Jessjake has lots of boo-boos,” he agreed. “He’ll get over them one day.”

 

                “Jake,” he heard Marie say behind him. He whirled around as she rested a hand to his back. “You know that you only have to say the word and I’ll get you whatever therapy you need,” she finished in a low voice as Skyler tipped the valet. “Whatever you need, sweetie.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad we came to see you. Dave says he’s already noticed a difference in me.”

 

                Jesse folded his arms around her back and dropped his chin to her shoulder, his eyes shut tight. Marie might still be nuts, but he’d grown to appreciate her candor and maternal approach to his life. If Marie ended up using him to get out of a sentence, he wouldn’t even be able to muster up disappointment, yet a voice insisted that he had no cause to worry.

 

                “I’m glad you came, too,” he told her honestly, gravel in his throat and his heart heavy. The thought that Skyler was next twisted him up. He’d already said his goodbyes to her in his head, but saying them aloud was not a thing he was prepared for yet and he clutched Marie longer than she probably expected as a way to stave off the inevitable.

 

                She patted him square on the furrow of his spine, a signal calling their moment to an end. He stepped away with a cheery smile, however, wanting to avoid any weeping with the women as much as possible. He didn’t think he could stand it.

 

                “Make sure you take the 10 to the ferry, it’ll be faster,” he said.

 

                Her eyes widened, but she grinned back at him. “You sound like Hank,” she replied then kissed his cheek quickly before letting go of him to walk to the passenger side of the car. “Let me know as soon as that painting is finished!” she called. Skyler came up behind her sister and Jesse felt his throat constrict again. He drew upon the memory of her the previous night to remember the lines of her body and the feel of her skin. Jesse extended a hand in front of him, the gesture unmistakable.

 

                She glanced at it first then stared in his eyes, a glint of amusement held there in her sapphire blues. Skyler finally grasped his hand and shook it firmly.

 

                “Thank you, Jake Hennings,” she said. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

                “You, too, Ms. Hannah Lambert,” he returned. He held her hand for as long as he could bear before breaking away, inhaling the crisp air deeply into his lungs. He turned to lean into the backseat, giving Holly a nose rub. “Bye, Holly.” Her soft, clumsy kiss at the side of his lips stood in for the kiss he’d denied Skyler. It was sweet confection, smelling of baby powder and innocence. He heard Walter’s hiss for a second – _you made me miss the birth of my daughter –_ but it fell away in an instant, replaced by the joy in the little girl’s eyes.

 

                The door rumbled on its springs as he closed it with a decisive air.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_Four months later_ **

****

               

                Jesse turned into his driveway on bouncy struts as the tires made their way over thick mounds of snow and packed ice. The young spruces that graced his way in were like old bearded men festooned with ermine pelts and they beckoned his arrival as the wind rustled their branches. He felt that familiar ease settle into his joints as he maneuvered the truck up to its regular spot. An old grey Subaru was parked there already and Jesse brought the car to a halt and cut the engine.

 

                She’d started a fire, he noticed; the smoke issuing from the chimney in slow-moving curlicues before the wind seized hold of it and cast it adrift. He grabbed his satchel from the passenger side and slung it over his shoulder, trudging his way to the porch.

 

                As soon as he entered the house he was assailed with the smell of broth and cabbage, but although he could see a pot bubbling on the stove, he saw no one about.

 

                “Hello?” he called, toeing off his boots as he untied the brightly colored scarf at his neck. It had been knitted for him as a gift and Jesse had taken to wearing it everywhere. The men at work teased him about the abundance of pinks and magentas woven into the design, but he only grinned back at them, content to let his thoughts drift to its maker.

 

                “I’m in here,” she called from his bedroom, the knitter appearing a second later wearing one of his shirts and a pair of loose sweats. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a can of polish and a cloth in her hands.

 

                “Hey, baby,” Lana enthused as she made her way over to him, dropping the dusting supplies on his rocking chair along the way. She reached her arms up around his neck and stood up on her toes to kiss him in welcome. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be home since Bill’s been keeping you pretty late all week. We’ve still got another hour before dinner’s done.”

 

                “Smells good,” he said strolling to the rocking chair and dropping his bag on top of the can and duster. “I’ve got some plans that I need to draw up later for homework, but it can wait.” Lana came up to hug him again, this time her arms circling his waist. “What’cha been up to?” he asked her. All of his drawings and sketchpads were now kept in the locked studio, but he was curious all the same.

 

                 “Just doing some cleaning. I had some time to kill so I thought I’d dust and vacuum for you. That’s okay, isn’t it?” She worried her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers, and Jesse tried to push away his old, paranoid thoughts.

 

                “Yeah, of course. Thanks, babe. I mean, don’t feel you need to clean up my shit, but … it’s nice that you did.”

 

                She shrugged endearingly. “I was just bored. I left my reading and my notes at home, and I was cleaning my mess in the kitchen after the soup was on, _soooo_ … I just kept going.”

 

                “Well, I am looking forward to that soup,” he praised as he moved towards the pile of mail on his dining room table. A large yellow envelope caught his eye, sitting at the bottom of the collection.

 

                “Hon, you’re going to love this recipe. It’s got kale and cabbage and carrots and, mmm, so much good stuff. I made enough of it to keep you fortified for the rest of the week. You can take some to work, too, to keep you nice and warm.”

 

                “Sounds awesome.” He scanned the few bills on the top. “You picked up my mail again?”

 

                “Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I was in town, and it was on the same ring with your house keys, so … since I was getting my own mail and the box was right there …”

 

                “Right on.” He gave her what he hoped was a relaxed smile. “I’ll make you a copy, tomorrow, I promise. I just haven’t had time.”

 

                “I know, hon,” she quickly responded, smiling back. “But don’t worry, I got a copy made already, so here,” she passed him the keys he’d loaned her the day before. “I only got the mail because I was there and I had the key with me. I know how you like your privacy, Jake. I hope you didn’t think I was snooping.”

 

                Jesse molded his features into concern. “No. No, of course not, Lana – thanks for taking care of all that. The key, too.”

 

                She craned her head to the side as she inspected his face. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with me coming over when you’re not here? I know we talked about your trust issues, baby, and you said you were cool with it, but … you just have to tell me if you start to feel I’m infringing on your space, alright?”

 

                Jesse frowned at her with a shake of his head. “I don’t … it’s fine, really. I’m totally cool with you being around more, hon. As long as, you know, it’s not … common knowledge that you’re coming over here, then we don’t got a problem.”

 

                Lana looked as if she wanted to add something to that but instead brushed a few fingers over the fading scar at his cheek. “I have to say, I don’t miss the beard, at all. I like seeing all of you,” she said. She turned foot and headed to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. “I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some? Oh, and my mother made fresh bread yesterday, so I brought some to warm up with our soup.”

 

                “Yeah, I’ll take a cup, thanks. Oh, hey, that reminds me. Stephen invited us to dinner on Thursday. Are you going to be free?”

 

                It was quiet for a few moments before Lana marched back out to the dining room. She studied his face for a second before speaking. “I – I thought we were going to take a break from that,” she said, her tone serious.

 

                “Uh, from dinner?” he asked, just as seriously. Lana flopped into a pose brimming with doubt, her hip cocked and arm bent above it, with an expression equally as skeptical.

 

                “You know what I meant. You said he thought it was a good idea.”

 

                “He did. I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s just dinner, Lana. He was talking about beef bourguignon. There wasn’t any mention of three-ways.” Jesse turned a chair at the table outward and sat down. “What do you think’s gonna happen?”

 

                “What always happens, Jake. He makes a fabulous dinner, there’s lots of wine flowing and witty conversation, sexy music playing, and then before we know it we’re all in bed together.” Her shoulders slumped as she crossed her arms, looking especially stressed. “You said you were willing to try this with just the two of us, Jake. If you’re having second thoughts … let me know now and I’ll get out of your hair.”

 

                He held up his hands in front of her. “Babe, whoah – hey, what’s going on? I’m not … changing my mind about what I said. I told you, I want … to be around you, okay. It was just an invitation from a friend, but if you don’t feel comfortable, we don’t have to go.”

 

                “It’s just that I’m used to the evenings ending up the same way. And I really want us to spend some time alone for a bit. You know … just you and me, baby.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, her head bent. “Plus … I think it would be good for you. After last time –”

 

                “Yeah, exactly,” he cut off. “After last time, the doc isn’t going to be too eager to hook up with us again, don’t you think? I mean, I pulled some weird-ass shit out of my mouth and I think he’s still plenty freaked out. So, he’s in total agreement about taking a break, believe me.”

 

                It hadn’t been his intention for it to happen, but that night had started off on a bad note. The trysts had already become a regular thing over the course of the month and along with it, Jesse’s insomnia had returned. There had been the growing sense that it was too much attention for him to handle, as both partners were solely focused on him. What had initially felt like an outpouring of acceptance had begun to suffocate him. Jesse had felt himself falling into familiar dark places, with that particular evening culminating in a nasty speech given by him of all the deplorable things he’d requested the doctor to perform on him. The Doc had gone pale as Jesse had reached for his belt and Lana had slapped him hard, fleeing the room with half her clothes in her fists. He’d had a lot of apologizing to do the next day. Doc had even insisted he start seeing a colleague of his for a few sessions, to which Jesse eventually relented under heavy protest. He had his first meeting with the psych guy the following week.

 

                Lana still appeared bothered by the event, avoiding his eyes as she spoke. “Maybe so, Jake, but … I know he still cares for you a great deal. I mean, Jesus, I’ve seen him with you, baby. If you want to … be with him, then I understand.”

 

                Jesse sucked in a breath and attempted to remain calm. He reached for her shirt, one of his old skull tees, grabbed the corners and pulled her towards him until she was caught between his legs. “Lana, listen to me, okay? I’m not in love with the guy, he’s just my friend. And my doctor – so I get that this is all a little weird, but honestly, it’s just … it’s got nothing to do with us. Look, sweetie, I know we both got our own issues to work through, but, I promise, I want to give this a chance.”

 

                She finally pulled up her head to meet his eyes. “Then why do we have to hide? You won’t even let me tell my mother about us, Jake. Is it because you don’t believe that this relationship can work? I feel like you’re giving up before it even starts.”

 

                “Hey, _heeey,_ ” he soothed, hooking his hands behind her bottom and dragging her forward until she was forced to straddle his lap. He slid his fingers up her back and took hold of her ponytail. “That’s not it, at all, baby, you know that. I told you … I just feel safer having people not knowing about you. Everybody talks around here and it spreads three towns over quicker than a fire. I – I told you about that gang in LA. They had connections to who knows where. I can’t risk you getting … look, that’s just the way it’s got to be, okay?”

 

                Lana didn’t appear consoled by the explanation. He pulled her hair free from its band, twisting locks of it around his fingers and bringing them to rest on her shoulders. “Other people around here have secrets, too. How many of them do you think are having affairs, right now, hmm? But secrets can be nice … special. I like being your secret.”

 

                Her sigh was pronounced. “Babe, you still have so much work to do, so many feelings to process. I told you how long it took me to even go out on a date again. So I’m perfectly fine with taking things slow and being patient, okay? As long as I know that you want me here.” She dropped her face into his neck. “I’m sorry I’m so insecure.”

 

                He embraced her with a comforting squeeze, planting a kiss at her temple. “It’s okay, hon. We’ll work it out.” She gripped him tighter, pushing her body flush against his, and Jesse scooped his hands under her rump until she ground herself into his crotch. His desire for her shot up in a flash so that all of his worries instantly fell away. There was something about having her smaller, compact form wriggling all over him that really got him going. Plus, her tits were fantastic.

 

                “Mmm, sweetheart, be careful there. We’ve got dinner on the stove, remember? You get me in the other room we won’t come back out for the rest of the night.”

 

                She looked up with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good. At least until later,” she winked. Jesse pulled her in for a quick kiss before smacking her behind. She gave a loud squeal and he groaned in answer.

 

                “Don’t get me thinking about that. You are a dirty little girl,” he said, his voice low and guttural. Between the two of them, they shared a wretched sexual past, but in a strange way, it informed the way they were able to work. Jesse felt more normal with her than he had in a long time.

 

                Lana’s smile turned mischievous. “I am, so it’s a good thing I have you here to straighten me out.” She climbed off his lap and strolled slowly to the kitchen, her bottom swaying for effect. Jesse gazed at her retreating backside with appreciation, but the twinge of paranoia returned the next second. He turned to the pile on the table, hastily sliding the bills away with disinterest as they revealed a colorful photograph of a beach underneath. Jesse grabbed the postcard, flipping it to the back with anticipation. There was only one line, as usual, but it was enough to make his heart swell. He looked back at the front of the card and soaked in the information that Holly and her mother were currently in Belize. That was quite a distance from the last card, which had arrived from Melbourne, Australia, but Jesse felt a sense of pride at Skyler’s continuing wanderlust. She had written him a few longer letters where she’d shared family news. He’d been relieved to hear that Marie’s case had arrived at a settlement that required no jail time. She was likely to still be under house arrest, but that was probably a good thing for Marie. He had yet to finish her painting.

 

                He knew that Skyler had been attempting to write again – a collection of short stories, she’d mentioned. He had only answered one of her letters, and it was with a postcard of his own, in which he’d scrawled one line of encouragement. Some days, he wondered if he’d ever see her again. Other days, he didn’t think of her at all.

 

                Jesse set the card aside and finally picked up the large envelope. He inspected both sides but it bore only his alias and po box with the postage. The writing looked familiar and he glanced at the print on the postcard to confirm the origin of the sender. His curiosity stoked, Jesse tore the top off quickly and popped open the mouth. There was something at the bottom of the envelope and Jesse turned it upside down to let the smaller package drop to the table. It was another envelope, white and fat, so he assumed that Skyler had written him another, lengthier letter.

 

                As soon as he saw the front, however, his pulse skipped. The manuscript was incredibly neat, with the type in squat, boxy letters. He didn’t recognize it at all. There was no name, only _Resident_ , and a po number that he expected was also Skyler’s. He carefully sliced the back open, noticing that his fingers had started to tremble.

 

                “Jake? Baby, you want honey in your tea or are you going to try to go without this time?” Lana called.

 

                “Whatever you think is best, hon,” he answered, his attention squarely on the sheets of folded paper he had pulled from its sheath. As he opened up the thick wad, he immediately noticed the greeting and a gasp escaped him.

 

                Lana poked her head through the cut-out over the sink. “Everything okay, babe?”

 

                “Uh … yeah. Golden,” he assured her, tears already springing to his eyes. He read the first line, his hands shaking.

 

_I was very conflicted after I received your letter. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to respond, but I had a lot to think about. I haven’t told Mom and Dad anything in regards to you getting in contact with me, so please know that I have followed your instructions as asked ….._

                Jesse stared dumbfounded at the opening before he could finally scan the rest of the page. A million emotions had hit him from all sides, the words appearing incomprehensible. His eyes read the same lines over again but his brain refused to deliver their meaning. He stood up too swiftly and the chair tipped sideways and fell with a bang, but Jesse was already on the path to his bedroom.

 

                “Honey? Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

                “Nah – yeah, it’s okay. I just gotta – I gotta do something in my room, okay. I’ll be … indisposed for a minute,” he rushed.

 

                He ignored her protests and shut the door firmly. Once he was closed off, Jesse took a soldiering breath. He still had the letter clutched in his sweaty hand, but he set it upon his bed to drop to his knees in front of the dresser. He ripped open the bottom drawer, pulled the package of unsent letters free. How many had there been before? How many were here now? Jesse had no idea, but Skyler’s sudden insistence that he reach out to his family was suddenly on an audio loop in his head. He rubbed a hand over his face, this last interference seeming to taunt him. But then he saw Jake’s first line materializing in his head and he took another breath. Skyler was trying to tell him something.

 

                Jesse slowly moved to the bed, eyeing the letter like a coiled rattlesnake. There was so much he wanted to hope for in that letter, and his fear that it wouldn’t be there kept him from grabbing the paper and devouring the missive. Jesse dared to imagine his brother as he was now. Someone confident and brilliant, no doubt, but would he have understood anything Jesse had had to say? He tried to recall the things that he’d poured from his heart into those letters, spilling from one to the other with barely a break in his thoughts. He was sure that most of it had been unintelligible, but perhaps Jake had seen beyond his criminal brother’s poor attempts at a confession of his sins and had simply seen the sincerity of the remorse present. Had maybe just seen his older brother in those rambling sentences; the one that had shown him how to skateboard when Jake was eight and his parents had left him alone with Jesse for more than two minutes. He wanted to believe that there was something waiting for him in those pages, something better than what he’d come to expect from his life. He saw a vision of himself with Jake and with Lana, maybe somewhere warm, maybe in his backyard, and the fist in his chest made him moan. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to keep anymore from escaping, worried at what else might come forth.

 

                And in that instant, he saw Walt’s face again, for the first time in weeks, as he’d uttered the words that had speared through Jesse so long ago.

 

_Never give up on family. And I didn’t. I took his advice._

                Jesse picked up the letter, sat down on his bed and folded his legs. He re-read the opening again, the tears back in his eyes. He wiped away at them impatiently so he could see, swallowing through the hollowness in his throat as he tried to center himself. He took another deep breath and began to read.

 

_Dear Jesse …_

 

 

 

**_*******_ **

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
